


...Suki

by Windsor_Writes



Series: This Hunger That Chases Contentment [3]
Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward First Times, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hand Feeding, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-05-19 06:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windsor_Writes/pseuds/Windsor_Writes
Summary: Touya and Yukito finally admit their feelings for each other. Now they have the chance to explore each other's appetites.





	1. Strawberry Shortcake

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going to rate this fic Explicit even though this chapter isn't particularly. It'll get there.
> 
> This is the third part in a series:  
> Part 1: The Moon's Hunger - Yuki pines for Touya  
> Part 2: Ore wa omae ga... - Touya pines for Yuki  
> Part 3: ...Suki - They figure out their mutual feelings and act on their shared fantasies  
> Part 4: ?? - Coaxing Yue
> 
> If you enjoy this and want to check out some of my original m/m fantasy and cyberpunk, head over to my author site: [Windsor Writes](https://windsorwritesblog.wordpress.com)

When Yukito came to, he was standing in his kitchen. The kettle was already on the lit stove, and his tea paraphernalia was set out on the counter. Yue must have thought he’d need a pot of tea. That was a rare sign of consideration from his alter ego. Perhaps it was an apology of sorts. 

The last thing Yukito remembered was running out of the coffee shop and looking for an alley where Yue could safely manifest. He had known there was danger even before Yue’s voice rang clear in his head, “Quickly! We must go to our master.” By which he meant Sakura, though for a moment Yukito had wondered. The shockwave of magical energy that rolled over Tomoeda had been powerful, dark, and achingly familiar. A black sun unfurled over the city, and something in him had unfurled in response, moonflowers opening on the vine. The brusque panic in Yue’s voice had been more than worry for Sakura. _Clow Reed._ He was as much a mystery to Yukito as Yue himself was. He was dead. Yukito knew that much. That didn’t seem to stop him from interrupting their lives. 

The window over the kitchen sink was dark. The ancient wall clock read 10:27, and it was slow. He’d missed their date. Their first date. 

Touya had asked him out; Yukito was almost certain of it. The words had rushed from Touya’s mouth as if to outpace his shyness. The restaurant he suggested was expensive. The invitation had come out of the blue, like a wish granted in a fairytale. Yukito had been pretending they were on a date already, sitting together in the coffee shop where Touya worked, sharing the wonderfully sweet latte that Touya had made for him. Touya wiped errant whipped cream from the tip of Yukito’s nose and licked it off his finger. If he had any idea the fantasies he was obliging… Just that would have been enough to ruin Yukito for the evening, but the next thing he knew, Touya was asking him out to dinner. 

And then…Clow Reed. Touya had been washing up at the end of his shift. Yukito hadn’t had a chance to explain before he fled the coffee shop. He’d given a message to the other barista, and he’d left a note. _Sorry about dinner._ How pitifully inadequate. 

Touya had asked him out, and Yukito had stood him up. 

The kettle was whistling. He let it shriek. Somehow he felt like if he moved, he sealed the disaster. Time would march forward, carrying him into this reality where he’d hurt Touya. He wished Yue could wrap him in the cocoon of his wings and carry him back in time. But even if magic could do such a thing – and he expected it could – that wouldn’t be right. He had to take responsibility. There was nothing for it but to apologize to Touya and hope he could make it up to him. 

He turned off the stove with a sigh, measured a scoop of fine leaves into his little teapot, and poured steaming water over them. The stubbly-smooth cherrybark tea tin and rough clay bizenyaki pot with the chipped lid were familiar objects in his hands. Yue had been right; the ritual of teamaking was calming. He supposed he shouldn’t be drinking caffeine so late at night, but he didn’t feel like sleeping. He carried his tea onto the veranda. It was easier to feel big things outside. His longing and disappointment were of a piece with the bite of the night air and constant sighs of the bamboo leaves. 

He’d let Touya down. Worse, it was in a way he was sure to let him down again. Yukito hated disappointing the people he loved, and he’d been doing a lot of that lately. 

That was the dark edge eating away at the moon above him. But larger than that, so bright he could hardly bear to look at it, was the growing possibility that Touya wanted him. 

Of course Touya loved him. Yukito had known it from the earliest days of their friendship. It was the one thing he was certain of, even when he wasn’t sure who he was or what was real or if he should exist at all. But there was love and there was love. Yukito hadn’t lied when he told Sakura he loved her. But it wasn’t the same as what he felt for Touya at all, and she had known it. He wanted Touya, craved him the way he craved food or drink or the magic that sustained him. The weight of that need would upset the balance of a friendship if it wasn’t felt on both sides. 

Oh, but if it was…

Touya had cupped his cheek in his broad, warm hand and stroked a calloused thumb over it. He’d looked at him so tenderly. What else could that be? If Touya hadn’t looked at him that way once before, Yukito would be utterly certain of its meaning. But Touya had – the day he’d given him his power. He’d cupped Yukito’s cheek and looked at him just like that, and he’d finally finished his sentence: not, “Ore wa omae ga suki,” _I love you_ , but, “Ore wa omae ga ningen ja nai te shiteru,” _I know you’re not human._ That time, his tender look had just been reassurance that he cared for Yukito whether he was human or not. What could it be this time? Had he asked him out to dinner to tell him something else? Yukito didn’t know what to brace himself for. 

The gate creaked open and clacked shut. Who could it be at this hour? More trouble with Sakura? He didn’t feel any magical presence. Footsteps on the stone path, slow but not sneaking. Then, like a vision conjured from one of his fantasies, Touya stepped out of the bamboo grove into the moonlight. He had a huge bouquet in one hand and a stack of lacquer and paper-wrapped boxes balanced on the other. He was dressed up. He looked so quintessentially like someone courting; he couldn’t be real. This was a dream. It had to be. Yue had exhausted their power in battle, and they were passed out somewhere. 

“Touya?” 

DreamTouya startled. He stared at Yukito as if he were the apparition. 

“Yuki…”

He walked up to the veranda and stood looking down at Yukito in that way that was all Touya, dark eyes solemn and searching. His feet crunched on the white gravel border as he shifted his weight anxiously. “I thought you might not have eaten dinner yet.” 

“I haven’t,” Yukito said, playing along. He held perfectly still. Lately his dreams of Touya were fickle things, always fleeing before he was ready. He usually woke as soon as their lips touched. 

“I made some gyoza, so I figured I’d bring them over,” DreamTouya said. Yukito drank in every detail while he could: the way his shirt hugged his chest and stomach, casually rolled sleeves and open throat at odds with the fine fabric; how Touya’s beautiful forearm flexed as he clutched the bouquet; the luminous white and deep red of the cala lilies; the way Touya’s dark cheeks flushed darker. His bangs were out of his eyes for once, swept to one side with gel. Touya never put gel in his hair. 

This incongruous detail, more than anything, made him think this might be real. Touya was actually here, looking as if he’d spent time agonizing in front of a mirror, armed with gifts, the muscles in his jaw working, brows furrowed. He looked so fierce, but Yukito knew it for shyness. His heart did something funny in his chest, even before Touya spoke. 

“Suki,” Touya said in a hoarse whisper. 

Oh. 

“Suki da,” he said again, louder. He almost sounded angry. 

Yukito drew in a shaky breath. Wonder and joy and relief welled up in him, more than he could hold. More than the night around him could hold. The outside wasn’t big enough for these feelings. His eyes stung. He laughed once, not meaning to, just as a release. He covered his mouth with a hand. 

Touya watched him, uncertain. That would never do. Yukito set his tea aside and stood, fitting himself into the narrow space between Touya and the veranda, so close they were almost touching. Heat rolled off Touya, held in the sliver of air between them. He smelled like soap and hair gel. Yukito looked up. Touya’s expression had opened, brow smooth and eyes wide, his lips parted. Yukito stood on tiptoe, hands flat on Touya’s chest, over his racing heart, and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Touya made a wonderful sound, so low and quiet that Yukito more felt than heard it. 

He settled back onto his heels, feeling unsteady, giddy with his own daring. Touya looked like he might drop everything he was holding. Yukito cupped his hand over Touya’s grip on the bouquet, reminding him of it. “For me?” 

“Yes.” Touya said it so gravely; it sounded like he meant more than the flowers. 

Yukito sidestepped so that he had space to take them from Touya’s unresisting hand, hugging them to his chest with a crinkle of plastic and tissue paper. They were so lovely, maroon and white velvet chalices all around his face. For him. All this for him. Happiness demanded he move, act, do something. If he had wings like Yue, he would have taken to the air. 

“I’ll go put these in water,” he said, breathless. He stepped up onto the veranda with more spring than necessary and whirled to face Touya, walking backwards to the shoji and opening them behind his back. “Come on. Just leave your shoes there.” 

Touya was watching him with a stunned expression. At his invitation, he brightened, sharpened, coming back to himself. He slipped off his shoes and followed. Yukito walked backwards the whole way to the kitchen because he didn’t want to stop looking at him. Touya smiled, then laughed, and then they were both laughing. It was so rare for Touya to laugh like that. Yukito wanted to remember this always, for the sound to echo in the hallways of his house when he was feeling lonely and nostalgic. This was real. 

He propped the flowers in the sink as Touya set the boxes on the counter. “I’m going to have to trim these,” Yukito said, still grinning, “you crushed the stems.” As he reached for a vase from the top of the fridge, Touya’s arms wrapped around him from behind. “Hng.” He found himself dragged back and held tight. Touya buried his face in his hair. 

It was a shock and a relief. He’d only realized how often he and Touya casually touched each other after he started avoiding it, afraid his body would betray him. It betrayed him now. The way their bodies fit together, Touya’s heat and solidity pressed against him from head to toe, was everything he’d been wanting, and an answering heat and hardness flared in his groin. He squirmed, embarrassed, but he was caught, no more able to escape the circle of Touya’s arms than his frantic heart could escape his chest. 

“Touya…”

“Just for a little,” Touya said. 

He relaxed by increments, and Yukito let himself relax with him. Touya sighed into his hair, the sort of sigh someone gives who has just set down a heavy load, or who has been in pain and finally found relief. It occurred to him belatedly that Touya might have missed touching him all these weeks. Yukito hadn’t meant to distress him. Or maybe it was just the relief of finally having told him. How long had Touya been holding onto that? 

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.” 

“It’s OK,” Touya murmured into his hair. “I know why.” 

Yukito flushed and ducked his head. Touya kissed the nape of his exposed neck. 

“Ah!” Oh that felt. This time when he pulled away, Touya let him go, laughing. 

Yukito snatched the vase, keeping his back to Touya, and busied himself with the flowers, leaning against the counter to hide the tent in his khaki slacks. He snuck a look at Touya, who looked smug and relaxed as he opened the huge lacquer bento. It had been a long time since Touya had teased him. Not since Yukito had found out about himself and Touya had given up his power. Yukito supposed he'd been a mess, and it was sweet that Touya was so careful with him, but he'd missed being teased.

“Do you want me to heat these up?” Touya asked, tilting the bento to show off dumplings arranged in a chrysanthemum shape with sauce at the center. “They’ve been in the fridge.” 

“Sure.” That’s right. Touya had said he made gyoza. Yukito had stood him up, and instead of being upset about it, Touya cooked a feast and hand delivered it. It was still Chinese food, even. Yukito sighed. “…I’m sorry about dinner, too.” 

Touya smiled as if Yukito’s apologies were endearments. “Well, I was pretty disappointed,” he said, teasing again. “I guess for our next date you’ll have to take me somewhere nice.” 

Their next… Yukito froze, considering the mess of cala lilies in the sink, more than would fit into the vase. “Is this our first date?” Touya had cooked him dinner, brought him flowers. He was dressed up. 

Touya’s smug smile softened, his expression distant, a memory of longing. Hearing it named aloud was having the same effect on both of them. 

“I was so upset I’d missed it,” Yukito said. “But you fixed everything and made it wonderful.” 

“So you _did_ know I was asking you out!” 

“Well I thought…maybe.” 

“Baka,” Touya said. 

“Baka,” Yukito said, but softly. He was gratified when Touya blushed. 

 

They ate on the veranda, the cold an excuse to huddle against each other. Yukito brought out a blanket and draped it around both their shoulders. The bento made it feel like a picnic. The gyoza were steaming. Touya had made them just how Yukito liked them. They were rich with garlic and pork so tender it melted in the mouth, the smooth flavor livened by a strong bite of ginger. Yukito doubted any restaurant in Tomoeda had food this good. Touya alternated between eating dumplings and holding them out for Yukito to pluck from his chopsticks. They emptied the bento, and Yukito was feeling pleasantly full and warm and content. Then Touya went and got the paper-wrapped box, bringing it out for Yukito to open. 

“You bought an entire cake.” 

Touya shrugged and looked to one side. 

It was a strawberry shortcake, one of Yukito’s favorite sweets. It reminded him of the previous summer, which they’d spent working part time at a strawberry farm. After work some days they’d sit at the bus stop bench and watch the sunset, sharing a box of strawberries between them. The cake had a ring of strawberry slices like petals around the bottom. The sides were perfectly smooth white icing, and the top was crowned in whole berries set in peaks of whipped cream. 

“I feel like it’s my birthday. Or Christmas,” Yukito said. 

“Since your birthday is on Christmas, we'll have to have two cakes then.” 

Every time Touya mentioned the future, Yukito had to pause to let it sink in. Happiness was seeping through him, filling in the cracks. All the sharp-edged, tenuous pieces of him fit into place, mended with gold. He felt…solid. At home. He didn’t have a real birthday; that was just a fiction. He still didn’t know what he was exactly, or if he should exist, or how long that existence might last. But whatever he was, Touya wanted him. They were together, and they had a future. 

Yukito apparently took too long staring at the cake without making any move to cut it. Touya snagged a strawberry from the top, scooping cream onto it, and held it out. The cake had been so pristine. There was something decadent about just messing it up like that. Yukito blushed, but he obliged him, leaning forward to eat from his fingers. Touya watched, intent, his expression hungrier than it had any right to be after all they’d eaten. He scooped even more icing and cream onto the next strawberry. Yukito couldn’t help getting it on his lips and the corner of his mouth. Before he could lick it away, Touya brushed his thumb over his lips, wiping them for him. He sucked the white slowly off his finger. Yukito watched, equally entranced…and then suspicious of Touya’s earlier performance at the coffee shop. 

“This is why you bought a cake.” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Touya,” he chided. 

Touya kissed him. Hard. It wasn’t a brief brush of lips against skin, the way he’d kissed the nape of his neck. His mouth covered his. Yukito gave a soft noise he’d never heard himself make before. Touya’s mouth was wonderful, firm and yielding at once, lips fitting to his, parting, and fitting again. 

“You taste like strawberries.” 

“Touya,” Yukito said again. He didn’t even know what he meant by it. 

Touya did. He cupped Yukito’s jaw so tenderly, stroking a thumb over the muscle and bone, just beside his ear. His hand was coaxing, his mouth insistent. He licked across the seam of Yukito’s lips, and Yukito made the sound again, something between a groan and a hiccup. 

He felt like a candle put too near a hearth. There was a singular fire swelling at the core of him, flaring until it felt like his whole purpose, but the rest of him was melting and malleable. He let Touya lay him back onto the blanket. He opened his mouth, and Touya filled it, tongue sweeping against his. His glasses were knocked askew, then finally off his face. 

They kissed and kissed. Yukito’s idea of kissing had been simplistic, he realized. He had no idea it would be this subtle and variable. This _good_.

It was sweet: their noses brushed, and Touya planted light kisses on his eyebrows and cheek and jaw. It was rough too: Touya used his teeth, nipping his lower lip and earlobe, tugging the neck of his shirt and sweatervest aside to graze teeth over his collarbone and shoulder. He sucked on Yukito’s throat until he whimpered. 

“Suki,” Touya whispered, a hoarse echo of the first time he’d said it. “Suki,” against his lips, against his ear, into his hair. 

“Me too,” Yukito said, just once. It was enough to make Touya shudder in his arms. 

They forgot to eat any more of the cake, but there was always tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it was confusing, the "black sun" doesn't refer to the scene where Eriol casts darkness and sleep over Tomoeda in Episode 69 "Sakura Meets Clow Reed." This chapter takes place before those events. A black sun just seemed like a good description of what Clow Reed's magical presence feels like to those who can sense it.
> 
> Edit: I forgot that Yuki's birthday was on Christmas (how could I?), so I tweaked the text to reflect that.


	2. Kaiseki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuki surprises Touya on their second date.
> 
> This chapter is a bit rambling, a procession of small delights.

Only one thing had changed, but everything felt new. How was the world in the waiting dark so different from the world mere hours later, when dawn remade it all and everything was glittering and rosy? Touya woke with tender, swollen lips and a sun in his chest. 

He’d kissed Yuki. Yuki had kissed him back. In fact, to be fair, Yuki had kissed him first, a featherlight touch at the corner of his mouth. Looking in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, he felt like it should have marked him. There should be a silver gilt impression of lips there. His skin still tingled with the memory. He was so energized, it was as if Yuki’s kiss had given back the power that Yue’s kiss had taken. 

Of course it hadn’t. He couldn’t sense Sakura’s magical presence down the hall, and he’d probably still sleep through half his classes. But he didn’t care. He hummed to himself as he made breakfast. He made it elaborate: salmon with soy glaze, cucumber and kombu salad, tamagomaki, fluffy white rice, and miso soup with enoki mushrooms. He couldn’t keep the happiness from his voice when he said “Good morning” to Sakura as she came charging down the stairs with barely enough time to eat. He watched her inhale the breakfast he’d so carefully laid out, his chin cupped in his hand and a faint smile on his lips. He was so obvious, even Sakura had to notice. 

“You’re in a good mood,” she said, phrasing it like an accusation. 

“You’re going to be late,” he said. He felt a bit guilty not telling her, but he was glad there wasn’t time for this conversation. 

His joy didn’t come at her expense. He knew that. Yuki’s heart was his own to give, and somehow, miraculously, he’d offered it to Touya. But Sakura might take it hard. She’d do her best to be happy for them, and that just made Touya even more reluctant to burden her. 

She strapped on her rollerblades and was out the door before he’d cleaned up the dishes. 

He had to hurry or he’d be late himself. He rode his bike fast, grinning into the cold bite of the wind. There had been frost in the night. (But it hadn’t felt cold on the veranda, Yuki’s slight body warm underneath his, his mouth wonderfully hot.) Yuki was waiting for him in the usual spot, his hair as silvery in the morning light as the frost-rimed branches above him. He was wearing a turtleneck under his uniform shirt and jacket. (His pale throat had marked so easily where Touya sucked on it. Yuki had arched into it. Touya had felt his moans against his lips and teeth.) When Touya called out, “Oi, Yuki!” – his version of good morning – Yuki’s cheeks flushed pink, and he grinned and waved like it was a happy surprise Touya had come to meet him. As if they didn’t do this every school day. 

“Touya,” Yuki said, a little breathless. (Breathless as the night before. He’d spoken Touya’s name between kisses in a tone Touya hadn’t heard before, deep like when he chided him but not chiding. Pleading.) 

They raced to school on their bikes. They hopped one-footed as they pulled off outdoor shoes and put on slippers, running to class and sliding into their seats, side by side, just before the bell rang. As classes wore on, Yuki surreptitiously kicked his foot each time he fell asleep. It was a routine Monday, but each event felt weighted, momentous. Touya wanted to remember every detail. He’d never been so charmed to be kicked awake. 

They ate lunch together on a bench outside, the bitter weather guaranteeing they’d be alone. Yuki perked when Touya pulled two bentos out of his bag and handed one to him. 

“Uwaaa, tamagomaki. And salmon!” Yuki said as he took the lid off. 

“I made too much for breakfast, so I packed lunches.” 

“I’m glad. I only brought cake.” 

“Who just eats cake for lunch?” Touya teased. Yuki ignored him, pulling the furoshiki wrapped cake box out of his bag and setting it between them. The winter air smelled like summer for a moment when he opened it – strawberries and vanilla and sweet cream. He’d tasted like that when they kissed. 

A wedge was gone; Yuki must have had it for breakfast. There was still a pit in the icing where a strawberry was missing. Touya glanced up to find Yuki staring at that spot on the cake as well, clearly remembering the same thing. On impulse, Touya snatched another strawberry from the cake top and held it out. 

“T…Touya…” Yuki said. Again, his voice wasn’t quite chiding. Touya’s stomach tightened with a want that had nothing to do with food. Yuki flushed and looked around the empty winter schoolyard. Touya had forgotten there was any risk of being seen. In his current haze of contentment, it was difficult to care. But he supposed he might care later, if there was gossip. Yuki might care. Maybe carrying on at school like this was more than he was up for. 

Touya popped the strawberry into his own mouth and gave Yuki his best wicked smile. “Too late.” 

They were back on familiar ground. Yuki nudged Touya’s knee with his own and chuckled. “Tease.” 

“You like it.” 

Yuki’s face was properly red now, bangs hiding his eyes as he dropped his head and looked away. He didn’t deign to reply, starting on his bento with a fervor. But he left his knee pressed against Touya’s. 

“So, I was thinking,” Touya said, “I should come over to study tonight.” 

“We do have a test tomorrow,” Yuki said. 

They did? Had the teacher announced it? Touya had just been looking for an excuse to spend another late night at Yuki’s house. He racked his brain to think what subject the test was in. 

Yuki watched him sidelong. “History.” 

“Right.” 

“You slept through the review.” 

“Can I borrow your notes?” 

“Of course you can. How often have I borrowed yours?” 

True, a month ago, it had been Yuki sleeping through classes and Touya making sure he didn’t miss any material. “At least one of us has been awake enough to pay attention, either way,” Touya said. “We make a good team.” 

Yuki picked his salmon apart with his chopsticks. Usually he’d eat it in three bites. It was Touya’s turn to watch him sidelong. Yuki’s glasses were sliding down his nose, and he hadn’t noticed. He was thinking hard, deciding whether or how to say something. He hadn’t stopped blushing, and Touya was increasingly curious to know what he was thinking. Still, as someone who had a hard time speaking, himself, he didn’t like prompting others out of silence. He kept eating, trying not to seem as though he were in suspense. That kind of quiet was just as loud as asking questions. 

When Yuki finally spoke, it was halting. “If you come over…I don’t know. We might not get much studying done.” 

Touya had taken that for granted, but to hear Yuki say it that way, that innocent confession…god it did things to him. Yuki focused, coming back from whatever he’d been imagining, and looked up at Touya. Whatever he saw in Touya’s face made him turn away again, quick as if he’d been scalded. He shifted on the bench. Touya leaned so close that his breath stirred the hairs at Yuki’s nape, lips almost touching his ear. Right there, just above the collar of his turtleneck, Touya spied a hickey remaining from the night before. “To be honest, I wasn’t planning on studying.” His voice was low and rough with want. He hardly recognized it. It was difficult to remember why he shouldn’t kiss Yuki then and there. But even a quick brush of lips to Yuki’s ear might be seen by someone looking out a classroom window. 

Yuki clutched the bento on his lap, eyes fluttering closed. His breath was ragged. 

Pulling away from him was like fighting gravity. Touya ached. He forced himself to relax back against the bench and finish his lunch. He’d thought that was the end of it, but when Yuki opened his eyes, they were determined. 

“No. I’ll lend you my notes. I’ll be fine with just the book. History is easy for me.” 

Wait. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go. 

“But…”

“You had all As last term.” 

“So it’s all right if – ” 

“You worked hard for that.” The pride in Yuki’s voice seemed to swell in Touya’s own chest and throat, trapping his complaint. Yuki had always been the top of their class, at least until he’d been starved of energy and fading out of existence. Now that he was better, he would drift to the top again. He didn’t just remember and understand things easily; he enjoyed studying. What came naturally to Yuki, Touya fought for. He spent so much time at his part time jobs that it was always a struggle to find time to study. He was so used to the effort that he didn’t think about it anymore. It hadn’t occurred to him that Yuki had noticed. 

“It’s already my fault your grades are slipping,” Yuki went on, fierce in his quiet, gentle way. “You can’t help being tired. But I won’t be responsible for any more than that. You’re going to study tonight and do well on our test tomorrow.” 

Touya sighed, shaking his head with a half-smile. He was at once touched at Yuki’s care and insistence…and badly frustrated. 

“You’ve been saving up for college, right?” Yuki said. “That’s why you work so many jobs, isn’t it?” 

Touya had never said as much. Yuki must have been watching him as closely as he watched Yuki, all this time. They were like sailors watching the sea, learning each other, sensitive to every shift in weather. He thought he knew Yuki better than anyone else did. (Anyone living, at least. But then, had Clow ever known Yukito, or had there only been Yue?) Beloved and known, and like the sea, still mysterious. 

“Yeah,” Touya said, both an answer and an affectionate admission of defeat. 

Yuki nodded once, still fierce. It was easy to see Yue in him when he was like this. It was incredibly hot. 

“I’ll do my best,” Touya said. Ridiculous that waiting to spend time alone with Yuki could be this unbearable. He’d already waited so long. But it was a pleasant sort of torture. He was good at taking care of his frustration on his own. It would be easy with the memory of Yuki looking at him like this. God, with his memories of last night… He had memories now, not just fantasies. Frustration was no trial at all. 

Satisfied with that answer, Yuki relaxed. He put away their empty bentos and served them each slices of cake. 

“Is this my reward for agreeing?” Touya asked, teasing again, letting Yuki know they were OK. 

“Mmm,” Yuki said. Was he acting smug? He was. 

“What’s my reward if I get an A?” 

Victory. Yuki went from smug to shy in the span of a breath. Touya ducked toward him, grinning. Waiting. 

“I…I could think of some things,” Yuki whispered. 

 

***

 

He studied. After a brief, intense session with his hand and the lube, he almost fell asleep, but he rallied. He went downstairs to sit at the kitchen table, far enough from his bed that he wouldn’t be tempted to crawl into it. 

His father was home and, like Touya, was up late working. He made them both coffee and left a cup at Touya’s elbow, peering over his shoulder at Yuki’s meticulous notes. 

“Oh, the Genpei War.” His father’s voice livened. “You know the dig I was just on found some Emishi fortifications and tombs from then.” 

“Wait, the Emishi?” Touya scanned the notes, looking for any mention of Honshu’s native people. 

“Mm. Up in Mutsu…er Iwate Prefecture. The northern Fujiwara were more than half Emishi themselves, and they still traded with the clans in that area. When Fujiwara no Yasuhira fell out with the Kamakura shogunate, Emishi allies fought as well. Their way of life was at stake.” 

“Too much. I just need to know what’s on the test tomorrow.” 

“Can I help?” 

Pride gave Touya pause. He didn’t want his father to know just how sketchy his understanding of the subject was. 

“Aren’t you busy?” he hedged. 

“A little. But if you have a test tomorrow, that’s more important. The paper I’m working on can wait.” 

“If it could wait, you wouldn’t be making coffee at midnight,” Touya pointed out. Fujitaka chuckled, wincing a bit, but he didn’t go back to his study. 

Touya could just imagine what Yuki would say if he found out Touya hadn’t let his history professor father help him study history. “OK. Here’s an outline of everything that might be on it.” He pushed Yuki’s notebook to Fujitaka as he sat down across the kitchen table. 

Fujitaka grunted. “I wish my students took notes this detailed and organized.” He took a sip of coffee. “Alright. Talk to me about the tensions between the Taira and Minamoto clans leading up to the Genpei War.” 

Touya had never wanted to ace a test so badly. 

 

***

 

The teacher handed back their tests that Friday. It had been a long week. Touya had worked at the convenience store after school on Tuesday and Thursday. Wednesday he’d had a soccer match, an away game. He’d slept on Yuki’s shoulder the entire bus ride there and back. 

The only time he’d gotten alone with Yuki that week had been a frantic few minutes in the gymnasium supplies room – manga inspired, though they hadn’t done half the things the boys in _Score!_ got up to. They’d just kissed. Just? It had felt like everything. He’d backed Yuki into the wall as soon as the door shut. Yuki had been hard against him, clear to feel even through layers of soccer trunks and briefs. He’d wrapped a leg around Touya’s and clutched at his sweat-soaked back, fingers like claws, pulling him close as two bodies could be. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one feeling desperate. Yuki was so composed most of the time. Touya didn’t feel composed. It was excruciating to treat Yuki the same as before when they were in public. Every part of him felt newly attuned and raw, like he had a new sense that was only for knowing where Yuki was in relation to him at any time. Joy and stress and desire and exhaustion tugged at him till he was sure everyone could see him coming apart at the seams. 

Finally, it was Friday. Just a few more hours until he was free to hang out with Yuki. He didn’t have soccer practice or work or anything else until his shift at the coffee shop tomorrow afternoon. 

The teacher made it to his row, placing his test on his desk in front of him. “B+” was written in the top right. So close. Yuki’s “A” was easy to see from Touya’s seat beside him. Touya deflated. 

Yuki brightened, but it was Touya’s paper he was looking at. “That’s really good!” At Touya’s flat look, Yuki said, “I’m serious.” He glanced up to make sure the teacher was out of earshot and lowered his voice. “After missing all the class discussion and not even reading the chapter till the night before? I’m impressed, anyway.” 

“Dad helped,” Touya mumbled. It was hard to hold onto disappointment with Yuki’s eyes on him, full of approval and mischief. 

“That was kind. We should thank him somehow. The reward I had in mind wouldn’t be at all appropriate…” He tapped his lip, drawing Touya’s eyes there. He was just saying this in class. Touya blinked, eyes wide, cheeks hot. Yuki gave a throaty laugh, pure delight. “We could bake him cookies.” 

_We._ Even more than wondering just what sort of reward Yuki had in mind for a B+, which was apparently just as good as an A, Touya thought about that “we” for the rest of the schoolday. Yuki had said it so easily. As if any favor done for Touya was a favor to him. As if Touya’s obligations were his own. Maybe he was overthinking it. Still, it was enough to sweep away the stress and frustrations of the week. 

By the time he and Yuki stood at the bike rack by the school gate, the whole weekend spread out before them, Touya felt ready for anything. 

“So…” Yuki started. He took a deep breath. “Would you like to go out to dinner? I mean, let me take you out to dinner? My treat.” 

“Sure. Where?” 

“It’s a surprise. I already made reservations.” 

“Oh?” Touya grinned. “When did you do that?” 

“Monday, actually,” Yuki admitted. They looked at each other and both burst into laughter, startling a group of girls walking by. The girls broke into an echoing fit of giggles, as if the boys’ bashful happiness were contagious. 

“Should I dress up?” Touya asked. 

Yuki bit his lip. “You don’t have to, but…”

But he liked it when Touya did? Well, shit. Touya started a mental inventory of his closet. The pressed suit, waiting in its drycleaning packaging at the back of his closet for special events? Or maybe something a bit more sexy and casual, like that v-neck cashmere sweater he’d gotten for Christmas? “How long do I have to get ready?” 

“Get ready? It’s just dinner.” Yuki flustered, his tone utterly failing to hide how pleased he was. “Is an hour enough?” 

“I’ll meet you at your house in an hour,” Touya said, hopping on his bike. He rode recklessly, driving all the restless energy he suddenly felt into the pedals. 

Once home, he raced through the door, hopping out of his shoes and running half up the stairs in stocking feet. On second thought he backpedaled to the whiteboard. Sakura was spending the night at Tomoyo’s house. His father was going to be home late after a meeting. Perfect. 

An hour was nearly too short. He tried on the suit. It looked too stuffy, like he was going to a funeral or a job interview. He wished he owned something cooler. He tried on his favorite dress shirts and sweaters. In the end, he decided on the cashmere sweater after all. The deep maroon made his brown hair and eyes look rich instead of drab. With just a loose grey t-shirt under it, the deep V showed off his collarbones and the flat plane of his sternum. He wore it with light grey slacks and a long winter coat, wide-winged enough to tuck Yuki into it as well on the off chance they stopped somewhere on their walk home to kiss. 

On his walk to Yuki’s, it began to snow. He lifted his face to it, letting the flakes melt on his cheeks and catch in his eyelashes. The first thing Yuki did when he met Touya at the front door was brush snow from Touya’s bangs. The second thing he did was kiss him. 

Touya backed Yuki into the entryway, cold hands cupping his jaw. Yuki flatted hands on his chest, made a happy sound, and pet them across the cashmere, sliding them under his coat. 

“This is soft,” Yuki said when they broke off. Rather than step away, he came closer, leaning his cheek on Touya’s chest as well. The sweater was a win. Touya wrapped his arms around him, lips to Yuki’s hair. It was a little damp, like he’d taken a shower in the hour since Touya last saw him. He smelled wonderful, like tsubaki oil shampoo, along with the grassy vanilla scent that was his own. It reminded Touya of new tatami and old books. 

“Are you sure we can’t just stay here?” Touya said, only half teasing. Alone at last, it was difficult to want to go back out into public. 

“We can come back here,” Yuki said, matter of fact, but the shyness in his voice was full of promise. 

“Excuse me!” A polite voice called out from somewhere beyond the open door behind them. They startled apart. 

“That’s just the taxi,” Yuki said, reassuring him. Now that he listened, Touya could hear a car idling out by the gate. 

“Taxi?” 

“The restaurant’s a little far away.” 

What had Yuki planned? Whatever it was, he looked pleased with himself. When Touya just stood looking at him in stunned curiosity, Yuki dragged him by the hand. “Come on.” Yuki didn’t let his hand go when they reached the walkway where a uniformed driver was waiting with an umbrella to open the taxi door for them. 

He didn’t let go as the driver greeted them, or even as they got into the taxi, dragging Touya into the back seat after him. As the driver walked around the car toward the driver’s side, Touya stared down at their linked hands, mind racing. Did Yuki not mind? Was he all right with people at school knowing, or just strangers? 

Yuki followed Touya’s gaze down, then exclaimed in soft dismay, “Oh! I guess that isn’t very discreet. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.” 

The driver slid in ahead of them. Yuki started to withdraw. Touya tightened his hand around Yuki’s. “I don’t mind.” 

After a breathless pause, Yuki laced their fingers together. They stayed that way the entire drive. When Touya brushed his thumb along Yuki’s, Yuki shivered beside him. 

The familiar snowy streets of Tomoeda slid by outside the taxi window. These gave way to farmhouses amidst brown, empty rice fields, and finally to forest and sloping hills. 

“Where on earth did you get us reservations?” He finally had to ask. 

“You’ll see,” Yuki said. 

“I hope we can make it back in this weather.” It was snowing harder here in in the mountains. 

“It’ll be all right if we can’t.” 

A ryokan then. Touya took a deep, steadying breath, all kinds of possibilities playing across his imagination. He stared out at the curtain of grey clouds, willing it to snow harder. 

They arrived in a little hot springs resort town halfway up the mountain. It was only a thirty minute drive from Tomoeda, but they were in another world. The town only had one road through it, a meandering path along a shallow, steaming river. Tall, old-fashioned buildings lined the river and road on either side, tucked against steep, tree-covered hillsides. Snow was piled on the steep rooves and rough wood signs of the buildings, most of them inns and restaurants with the odd local crafts shop and a single convenience store. Snow fluttered in the warm light of lanterns and open doorways and in the glow of vending machines. Tourists and locals strolled along the street with scarves wrapped above their noses and snow piling on their umbrellas. 

“Here we are,” the driver pulled up in front of a grand old building at the end of the road. 

“Wonderful. Thank you,” Yuki said. He let go of Touya’s hand to pull out his wallet and count bills for the driver – four sen just for the drive one way. Touya reached for his wallet, but Yuki shook his head. 

“No. Tonight’s on me.” 

Something in Touya rebelled at the cost, at not sharing the burden, but he bit back his complaint. For now at least. 

Outside, the air smelled like cedar and sulfur. Steam from the river drifted across the road and around the bridges, catching the light. Somewhere shamisen music was playing, either real or from a speaker. He couldn’t tell. The town felt outside of time and place, magical, somewhere anything might happen. There were so many things he wanted to happen. 

Yuki picked up Touya’s arm and pushed back his coat sleeve to check his watch. “We have half an hour before dinner. Want to walk around?” 

“Sure. Let’s explore,” Touya said, far more casually than he felt. To be honest, he felt out of his depth. He caught Yuki’s hand in his and stuffed it into his own coat pocket. Yuki’s cool, slender fingers laced through his again, a perfect fit against his palm. Which was sweating. But everything couldn’t be perfect. 

They wandered down the street, peering into lit shop windows. They passed other couples doing exactly what they were doing. They were a couple, Touya thought. There was no difference between them and the smiling, young men and women they passed except that both of them were men. Well, and one of them wasn’t human. In a strange, magical place like this, Touya couldn’t feel anxious about Yuki’s hand in his, or the way they leaned their heads close to admire some cute figurine or expensive tea ware in a window. Would he be so relaxed if they were in Tomoeda? He wasn’t sure. 

“Ne, Yuki…”

“Mm?” 

“I meant it, what I said in the car. I don’t mind this.” He squeezed Yuki’s hand. “But what do you think about at home? At school? Do you mind if people know that we’re dating? That you’re my…boyfriend?” It was the first time he’d let the word cross his lips. 

Yuki sucked in a short breath, holding it, as if to catch the word and hold it as well. It was a while before he answered. Snowflakes landed and caught in his silver hair. “I don’t mind people knowing.” There was uncertainty in his voice, not about his answer, but about whether Touya really felt the same way, Touya thought. 

“It might be hard for Sakura if there were rumors,” Touya said. “I haven’t told her yet.” 

“She might take it better than you would think,” Yuki said gently. He turned toward the river, face lifted to watch steam mingle with snow and be lost in low grey clouds. “The truth is...when she confessed her feelings for me, and I said that I liked her but not in _that_ way. She asked if there was someone else. Someone I already liked best.” 

Touya stared down at Yuki’s profile, heart ridiculously on tenterhooks to hear the answer. 

“I said there was.” Yuki gave a huff, a ghost of a wistful laugh. “She asked if it was you.” 

“She what?” There was no way his little sister was that perceptive. And Yuki had already said all this to _Sakura_? Weeks before he said anything to Touya? 

Yuki nodded. “I said yes, but that I wasn’t sure you felt the same way. And she…comforted me.” Guilt and love twined together in Yuki’s voice. “She encouraged me, right after I turned her down. She said she was sure I was your number one person.” 

Touya made a pained sound. And here he thought he’d kept it secret. Just like she'd been convinced he didn’t know about her magic. They really were brother and sister – more alike than he wanted to admit. 

Yuki turned and tucked himself against Touya’s chest. Touya wrapped him in his arms and rested his chin on Yuki’s fluffy, snow-chilled hair. Sakura had known, in her heart of hearts, even as she risked everything. She’d held her love out in both hands, too honest to hold back, and when Yuki refused that gift…she knew. 

Touya guessed he owed Sakura the truth, himself. But that was a problem that could wait till he was home. 

“She’s a good kid,” Touya said. “And she’s right, you know.” 

“I know,” Yuki said, muffled into Touya’s chest, lips ticklish against his bare collarbone. 

People turned furtive glances their way, two boys hugging that way in the middle of the sidewalk. Touya closed his eyes. He didn’t care. He tightened his arms around Yuki, wanting to shield him, happy to hold him for as long as he was willing to stay. 

 

***

 

Dinner was in a little tatami room overlooking the river. It was just the two of them. Sliding fusuma doors partitioned their room from those of neighboring diners in similar tableus. In the cozy space, there were zabuton on either side of a low table with a delicate, gorgeous ikebana arrangement at one end. Touya sat crosslegged on one side. Yuki knelt in perfect seiza across from him. A wall of windows beside them would have overlooked the river, but the glass was too steamed to see out of. An ambient murmur of voices and laughter filled the air, but nothing clear enough to make out. Touya was glad of the privacy. It let them both relax fully. But how much was Yuki paying for this? 

As course after course was brought before them, tiny handmade plates artfully arranged with bite-sized seasonal dishes, his conviction grew. This was dreadfully expensive. There were three kinds of tofu: light shima-dofu in broth with vegetables, sweet goma-dofu, yuudofu with a little nabe pot. There were four kinds of fish: raw hamachi sliced so thin it was translucent, pickled aji, a light clam soup, roasted sanma with a sweet glaze. There were pickled vegetables, boiled vegetables, sweet squashes, crunchy lotus root and gobo salad with creamy sesame sauce. It went on and on. 

Touya savored every bite. He commented on the flavors and the ideas they gave him for cooking. He and Yuki made guesses at the ingredients to some of the more obscure dishes. They took turns groaning at just how good things tasted, making each other blush. They shared dishes back and forth. It was the best meal Touya had ever eaten at a restaurant. Still, his unease must have shown. As the fifth course was cleared away, Yuki asked, “Touya, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Touya said. He tried to gather his thoughts. It would be so easy to hurt Yuki without meaning to. “I was just thinking you’ve set the bar so high, I’m not sure what I could do for our third date that would compare.” 

“It’s not a competition. I just…wanted to do something nice for you. That bouquet… You bought me an entire cake. You stayed up all night studying just because I asked you to. You’re amazing and I…well. We can cook at home next time. I love watching you cook.” 

Should he press on? Maybe he shouldn’t. Yuki was being so sweet, Touya hardly knew what to do. It felt so hot in the small room, he was glad of the breeze from the rickety single pane windows. 

“This must be _really_ expensive,” he said lamely. 

Yuki furrowed his brow, considering not just Touya’s complaint but the emotion behind it. Touya felt naked beneath that regard, all his insecurities on display. He felt oddly safe, too. Yuki would never use them against him. 

“It’s not just the house,” Yuki said. “There’s money. I have an account in my name. I remember my grandparents setting it up for me, but that isn’t real, so I don’t know who set up the account or how. I guess it's money Clow left for me.” Yuki wrung his hands in his lap. “It’s…well, it’s a lot.” 

Touya winced. He didn’t want to use Clow’s money. He didn’t want Clow still there, overshadowing him from the grave, doing things for Yuki that he never could. Of course Yuki’s money had to come from somewhere. He’d been buying clothes and food all this time, hadn’t he? He hardly ever splurged except when he was buying presents for Touya or Sakura. In fact, he was so frugal, Touya guessed he’d thought Yuki didn’t have much. Why should it hurt to hear he was rich? 

Yuki read him like a book. “Clow is gone. It’s _mine_. If I let myself think it isn’t, then nothing is mine. Not my house. Not my life. Not even my body.” 

Touya looked up, stunned into anger, though not at Yuki. “You’re not some…some _thing_ he made. You’re a person, for god’s sake. You always belonged to yourself.” 

The sixth course came in, interrupting their conversation at the worst moment. They sat in tense silence as women in beautiful kimonos set jellied fruit in front of them, mousse pyramids crowned in shards of caramel, cups of steaming tea. The silence stretched after the door was shut again. 

Yuki held the tea without drinking, just warming his hands. They looked smooth and pale as the porcelain beneath them. Touya hated the distance of the table between them. Words were his clumsiest tool. How could he use words alone to comfort Yuki? 

“As you say,” Yuki said, though he sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “I belong to myself. Yue says that we serve the master of the cards, but that Sakura wanted to be friends, not master and servant. My things are mine alone, to do with as I like. Everything that is mine is mine to give.” 

Touya couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t want to. Yuki was shoring up the fragile boundaries of the life he was making for himself, and any doubt on Touya’s part could bring them crashing down. He leaned across the table, cupping Yuki’s hands in his. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just that…I wanted…I guess I wanted to think I could support you. Provide for you. It’s stupid, I know.” What was he doing? Proposing? This was a bit heavy handed for a second date. 

“It’s not stupid,” Yuki said. “You do support me. I wouldn’t be here without you.” 

Caught. If he thought it was unreasonable that Yuki felt bad for letting Touya give up his powers, it was twice unreasonable to feel bad that Yuki was spending money on him. After all, if _he_ were rich, he’d never have the restraint to keep from spending it lavishly on Yuki. 

“You save money as much as you can except when you buy me things,” Yuki went on. Touya needed to say something to let him know he’d won the argument. “Is it odd that I’d want to spoil you too? To buy things for you?” 

Touya leaned till he was draped over the table, braced on his arms, and kissed Yuki on the mouth. Yuki mmmphed and pressed into it, instinct canting his body toward Touya’s. 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one whose restraint has slipped,” Touya said. “I’ll let you spoil me if you want to.” 

“I want to,” Yuki said. 

“Then do.” 

“Not…not in the restaurant.” 

“Then we’d better call a taxi.” 

“I held a room for us.” 

Touya fell back to his side of the table, gaping. Yuki looked flustered, embarrassed, and incredibly pleased with himself, all at the same time. 

“On Monday?” Touya asked slowly. Yuki couldn’t have known it would snow. 

Yuki nodded. “I…I mean…not that I wanted to assume. I figured if you didn’t seem like you wanted to stay, I just wouldn’t say anything. I should have told you to pack a bag. I wasn’t sure…”

“Trickster fox. You stole me away to the mountains to seduce me with food.” Yuki had bought a room at an expensive ryokan with the backup plan of not staying in it and just not telling him. Touya didn’t know if he was delighted or scandalized. 

Yuki blinked at him, brow furrowed. After a pause he said, deadpan, “Is it working?” 

Touya laughed louder than he meant to. There was an annoyed exclamation about drunk businessmen from beyond the sliding doors. Touya spooned a bite of chocolate mousse into his mouth, closed his eyes, and moaned softly. He opened one eye to watch Yuki squirm. 

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit late in posting this because it has been a rough few months. My adorable idiot cat died of a heart attack. I got Lyme disease from a tick bite. I'm on some hefty antibiotics, and I'm pretty exhausted. Getting to write Touya and Yuki happy and together has been a nice way to relax. I hope you find it as much of a sweet reprieve as I have. The next chapter shouldn't take so long, I promise. This has been the slowest burn, and we're finally getting to the good part.


	3. Amazake (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touya and Yukito spend the night at a ryokan together.

After the okamisan showed them the features of their room – the electric space heater; the neat twin piles of yukata, haori jackets, and tabi socks they could wear down to the baths; small towels emblazoned with the ryokan’s crest for them to use and keep; a low table with tea and snacks they were far too full to drink or eat; and their two futons spread on the floor with a chaste distance of tatami between them – she bowed out of the room and shut the door. They were alone. Touya had waited all week for this moment. In his imaginings of how the weekend might go, he had pictured the desperation and hasty fumbling of their stolen kisses in the supplies room. Now that it came to it, though, they stood stunned and still. They were like captive creatures released for the first time into the middle of a wild field. The sheer possibility of all that _might_ happen made Touya’s heart pound till he felt dizzy. Everything from here on was undiscovered country. 

Yuki was doing his archery breathing: deep, slow, measured breaths meant to focus and calm the spirit. His eyes were wide and uncertain behind his glasses, his gaze on the V of Touya’s sweater rather than his face. He looked so lost and determined; Touya was overcome by tenderness. The fist around his heart relaxed, and he was flooded with familiar affection. All at once, he felt grounded. If Yuki was adrift, Touya could be something solid and real for him to hold onto. 

He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms loose around Yuki’s lower back. Yuki sighed and relaxed into him. He rubbed his cheek against Touya’s chest like a cat, enjoying the cashmere. His slight body was the perfect armful. 

“This is nice,” Touya murmured. 

“I saw a poster at Tomoeda Station advertising this place,” Yuki said, interpreting Touya’s words to mean the ryokan. “There was a picture of the meal we just had, and of the private outdoor baths at the river’s edge. I thought about coming here with you. It was just a daydream.” 

Private. Outdoor. Baths. 

At the words, Touya was lost in a daydream of his own: Yuki naked and wreathed in steam under the moonlight, milky water lapping around his thighs. Touya could just feel the crisp winter air and Yuki’s hot, bare skin sliding against his, soft and slick from the mineral water. 

“Yuki…” He wanted to say how happy it made him that Yuki had been thinking of him, that Yuki felt secure enough to go out on a limb and make these reservations, that Yuki had made his dream a reality for them both. He wanted to at least say thank you. Words had fled. His body was trying to speak for itself. He was hard and getting harder, his cock full and straining against his briefs toward Yuki, tantalizing inches away. Thank goodness he was wearing briefs and not boxers. He sucked in his stomach, shifting his hips back just enough that Yuki might not notice. 

Yuki noticed. The small motion caught his attention. He perked, curious. Then, looking down, he broke into a shy grin. “Oh…hi.” 

“Sorry,” Touya said reflexively, even though he wasn’t. Nervous energy made him speak the first word that surfaced. Yuki was just _looking_. Touya could feel those wide, approving eyes on him like a touch. 

“Don’t apologize,” Yuki said, earnest. “I like it.” 

Touya growled and tightened his arms, tugging Yuki against him. The relief of being hidden from view was nothing compared to the relief of touch, pressure where he most wanted it. His erection followed the curve of Yuki’s hip and stomach like he’d been made to fit there. He could feel Yuki harden and twitch against his thigh in response. 

“Yeah?” Touya said, a growl still in his voice. 

“Yeah,” Yuki whispered. He melted against Touya, molded to him, pressed close as he could be. “It’s proof.” 

Proof? That Touya wanted him? That this was real? Touya could give him better proof than that. He’d prove his desire every day if Yuki let him. He ducked his head to kiss Yuki’s jaw, tender and sure. He kissed his cheekbone, brushed noses with him. Then Yuki tilted his face to meet Touya's. Sweetness and thirst. Their tongues slid over each other’s lips, into each other’s mouths. Touya felt warm, flushed and tingling as if he’d just come in out of the snow. Yuki’s hands ranged and clutched at Touya’s back like he didn’t know what to do with them. 

Touya’s hands knew where they wanted to be. He slid them down the small of Yuki’s back and cupped his ass. Squeezed. Yuki made a cute, surprised noise into Touya’s mouth. Wonderful. Touya kneaded, half expecting to be batted away. No, Yuki liked it. He _moaned_. When Touya squeezed a little harder, Yuki rolled his hips against him. Oh this. This. He slid his thigh between Yuki’s legs and took his weight when Yuki’s knees went shaky and weak. Yuki bucked against him again, trembling. 

Touya peeked over Yuki’s shoulder, judging the distance to the futons. Too far to stumble there in this tangle of legs. He hefted Yuki up. Yuki wrapped his legs around Touya’s waist and his arms around his neck. He rained kisses on Touya’s face. Touya had to gauge direction from the corner of his eye as he carried Yuki to the nearer futon. He tumbled forward onto it, catching himself on one arm, still holding Yuki up easily with just one hand. Yuki laughed, relaxing his legs till his full weight rested in Touya’s arm. He still wasn’t touching the futon. Touya flexed his arm, squeezing Yuki’s ass once more. If Yuki enjoyed testing his strength, well, he certainly enjoyed showing off. 

Then Yuki caught the shell of Touya’s ear between his lips, nibbling along it. He _licked_ that inward spiral. Oh by all the gods in Izumo, he drew Touya’s earlobe into his mouth and sucked on it. Touya had thought it was cute how Yuki writhed and groaned when Touya sucked on his throat. Served him right. His arm was shaking. It took all his focus to keep his hold. Yuki worked his way down, nosing Touya’s throat till he found a spot he liked and then sucking hard. It was like his mouth was in two places at once, that sweet ache and tug at his throat, a matching tug from his balls to the tip of his cock. He felt impossibly swollen. He imagined his skin purpling under Yuki’s lips. “Ah!” He collapsed onto Yuki, just managing to catch his own weight on his elbows to keep from crushing him. 

They both laughed, Yuki delighted and Touya breathless. There was no losing at these games.

Yuki relaxed back into the downy quilt and grinned up at him. He traced the mark he’d made on Touya’s neck with a light finger. Touya let his hips fall, pinning Yuki with his weight. They both groaned at the pressure. Touya arched. Yuki closed his eyes and threw his head to one side, glasses askew, not laughing anymore. Touya gently took his glasses off, folded them, and set them aside. 

“Tou-ya…” Yuki blinked, desire furrowing his brow. Touya waited to see if Yuki would find words to name some specific want, but that was all. His name. Pleading. 

The field was wide. They could go anywhere from here. Touya wanted…oh he knew what he wanted. But was that too much? Too fast? “Yuki, there’s something.” He didn’t know how to go on. “Something…I want to try.” 

Yuki turned to face him, nose to nose. Touya’s bangs trailed over his forehead. Yuki’s eyes were thin rings of amber around dark pools, owlish and stunned as they had been that moment at the coffee shop when Touya had finally realized that Yuki wanted him. “Un.” A simple yes. Unquestioning trust. 

It was more intimidating than if Yuki had been hesitant. He put himself in Touya’s hands, just like that. Trust was a fragile, feathered thing, so easily broken. Sometimes Yuki seemed as naïve as Sakura, always offering kindness and expecting it, but he held some parts of himself secret and close. His desire had been one of those secrets, now laid bare. Touya thought of Yue’s wary, measuring look, arms crossed over his chest as Touya begged him to take care of himself. His eyes had been cold, sharp – the eyes of someone who had been hurt. It wasn’t just Yuki choosing to trust him. Yue saw what Yuki did, heard what he heard, maybe even…felt what he felt. Touya wasn’t sure. But he doubted Yue would watch in silence if he was cursing Yuki for a fool. He could always manifest to protect himself and his alter ego. Yue was allowing him this, offering up the unbroken part of himself. Touya swore to himself that he wouldn’t betray that trust. 

“Touya?” Yuki brushed a kiss over his lips, coaxing, watching him. “It’s alright, whatever it is.” 

Touya nodded, solemn, his silent oath pressed like a seal to his heart. He lifted himself off Yuki, kissing him hard, once, to show he didn’t plan on going anywhere, that he wasn’t backing off. Yuki craned toward him as he moved away, making an adorable wordless complaint.

Touya knelt between Yuki’s legs, petting along the outside of them over his white jeans. They were tight, emphasizing how slender his legs were. Touya would bet they were feeling *awfully* tight by now. He grinned and smoothed his hands up Yuki’s thighs, over his hips, pushing up his bulky Icelandic sweater to expose his stomach and ribs heaving with short breaths. He decided to leave the sweater on. It was cute – quintessentially Yuki – a little dorky, with snowflake patterns around the neck. He could imagine Yuki gripping the hem in white-knuckled fists, not sure if he wanted to push it down to cover himself or pull it up to offer Touya better access. Touya’s skin was so tan against Yuki’s, his hands wide enough to span Yuki’s ribcage on either side. He pet down again, soothing, loving how Yuki arched into his touch and sighed. He brushed the back of his fingers up the inside of a thigh. Yuki sucked his stomach in with a gasp. Touya pet down the inside of his other thigh. Up. Along the waistband of his jeans. Lazy strokes. Everywhere but there. 

“Tease,” Yuki scolded, like he was swearing under his breath. 

He was right, of course. But Touya said, “I’m taking it slow. Let me know if there’s anything you don’t like, OK?” 

Yuki nodded vaguely, brow furrowed, like he was trying to imagine anything he might not like and couldn't. “I just _want_.” 

“Me too. I want you. I’ve wanted to do this for…” Touya heaved a breath, wondering if he should admit to wanting to have his hands and mouth all over his friend since he’d met him. He had a feeling Yuki had only started wanting him that way recently, maybe as recently as when he’d started avoiding him a few weeks ago. “…a long time.” 

“Really?” That interested Yuki enough to break through his fog of need. “Since when?” 

There was something innocent about Yuki that made Touya embarrassed to admit how horny he was. “Since a long time ago,” he repeated, mumbling. 

“I didn’t know,” Yuki said, rue and wonder in his voice. 

“You’re my best friend. I didn’t want to risk that.” Touya kept petting as they talked, until it felt natural. 

“You’re still my best friend.” 

Something eased in Touya’s chest that he hadn’t realized had been brittle, braced against that fear. He and Kaho had never just been friends. She had seemed to let him close while holding herself distant. He’d always felt like he was reaching for her as she slipped away, silk running through his fingers. It had hurt from the beginning. Maybe some part of him had been afraid of losing Yuki from the day they’d met. Yuki wasn’t even human. He was more powerful than Kaho, more caught up in ancient magic and stories beyond Touya’s ken and out of his reach. But he was also just…Yuki. Touya’s best friend. He loved him. He was staying. 

“Mm,” Touya nodded, feeling foolish in his happiness. Could it really be like this? This easy? Just relaxing into each other, closer and closer? It was a joy too bright to look at directly. He shied sideways of it, teasing, “Your best friend who wants to do terrible things to you.” 

“Terrible things?” Yuki laughed. 

“Mm.” Touya trailed the back of his hand over the hard ridge of Yuki’s erection. He traced the shape of him through thin, soft denim. _Pressed_ with his thumb. He watched Yuki’s face. Yuki's amusement dissolved into shaky breaths. His eyes closed. His lips parted. 

Touya couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He stretched out on his stomach between Yuki’s legs, his face right _there_ , intent unmistakable. Yuki gave a soft, “Oh,” watching him wide eyed. He didn’t panic or push Touya away as Touya unbuttoned his jeans, or when he gripped the hem of both jeans and his white briefs and pulled. Slowly. Touya looked down at fine, silvery hairs gusting under his own panted breath. They were soft, not coarse, more like fur than hair. A tuft just long enough to curl. The soft skin of his cock was the same cherry blossom color as his cheeks when he blushed. It bobbed free as soon as his jeans were clear of it, brushing Touya’s cheek, trailing damp across his skin. Touya was too gratified to be surprised or shy now. He’d waited for this. 

“You’re beautiful.” He was. Cute and shapely as the toy Touya had bought, a little smaller, but swelling as he watched. The head of his cock was surprisingly red and wet, half free of his velvety pale foreskin. A pearl of precum formed at the slit. He was that hard and leaking, just from Touya’s eyes on him. 

“ _Touya_ ,” Yuki complained, embarrassed. Oh…oh he was grabbing the hem of his sweater. Touya gave him space in case he wanted to cover himself, but he didn’t. He just brutalized the wool, wringing it between his fists. Unbearably cute. 

With a moan, Touya rubbed his cheek over him. “God, you smell wonderful.” The musk of his skin was so much stronger here. If holding Yuki close and breathing in the scent of his hair was like following the wafting hint of a nearby bakery to its source, this was the source, sweet and hot as a just-opened oven door. Vanilla and salt, sweat and sex. Touya wanted to devour him. He did. He couldn’t help himself. He hardly meant to be so bold, he just _needed_. He swallowed him down. 

“Touya!” Yuki shuddered and bucked. With his jeans only half-off and trapped under Touya, he couldn’t move much. 

Touya had practiced. He’d fucked his mouth on the toy he bought till he could do it without gagging. This was so much better than the toy though: salty tang instead of bitter silicone, hot and giving instead of cool and firm. Touya could feel the flared head of him slip free of his foreskin against his tongue. He could taste how much he was leaking. Shit, he was leaking himself, he was sure of it. He thought he might be able to come just from this – the little jolts of Yuki’s hips and matched cries. The brush of soft hair against his nose when he swallowed him deep as he could go. He’d meant to savor this, to go slowly, but he was as lost as Yuki was. Yuki must have let go of the sweater at some point, because he was mauling Touya’s hair. 

Wait…was he trying to pull him off? 

Touya paused and half lifted his head, but the fists in his hair tightened when he did, holding him there. Yuki’s cries gave way to small complaints. Touya looked up, mouth around him. 

Yuki’s head had been thrown back, but now he looked down at Touya, dazed and panting. “Are you…OK? Oh…” Surprise and soft panic crept into his voice at seeing Touya like that. He gasped and shook his head, and his hips stuttered, his knees lifting beside Touya’s shoulders as he braced himself. He’d been leaking all this time, slick against Touya’s tongue and dripping down his own length, but now he came in earnest. Touya wasn’t sure he could swallow without choking, so he didn’t, just holding his throat closed and his mouth firm as Yuki fucked into it. 

Touya had licked his own cum off his hand before, wondering if Yuki would taste the same. Nearly. Yuki tasted human - but sweeter. 

Yuki’s hands relaxed. His hips fell, and he slipped from Touya’s mouth. Touya swallowed. Coughed. Laughed. 

Yuki pet his hair with a shaking hand. “Are you sure you’re OK?” he asked in an equally shaky voice. 

“OK? That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done. I nearly came.” He was still achingly, impossibly hard, but he felt sated. Nothing he’d ever done with Kaho or on his own had left him this dazed. He felt drugged with contentment. 

“Oh.” 

Touya sat back and wiped his mouth on his hand. He supposed it was out of the bag how horny he was now. Yuki was watching him, stunned. Neither of them had caught their breath. Yuki’s eyes raked down him, from swollen lips to the bruise on his throat to the bulge in his slacks. 

“Can I try?” 

"Oh god."

They blinked at each other. Then they were moving. Yuki kicked his pants the rest of the way off. They tore off each other’s sweaters and undershirts. They kissed. Yuki made a sound at the taste of Touya’s mouth but only kissed him harder. He was naked in Touya’s arms, in his lap. Touya had dreamed of each one of these things, separately, over the years. Wishes were being granted one after another, a shower of stars all around him. If asked his name in that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to answer. 

Yuki paused when he got to Touya’s belt. 

“Here, I’ll lie down. It’ll be easier.” Touya shifted them around, Yuki still in his lap, till the pillow was behind him. He lay back, offering himself for Yuki’s exploration. Yuki looked at him the way he looked at bakery windows, eyes ranging over every feature like he couldn’t choose. He traced a finger over the beauty mark just under Touya’s collarbone. He cupped small hands under Touya's broad pectorals and pet down his abs. Touya flexed for him, making him laugh.

“It’s hard to believe I can just look…all I want. It’s been flashes here and there when you change for soccer or work.” 

“Were you looking?” Touya was honestly shocked. And flattered. That was more than he’d hoped for. 

“A little.” 

“How can you look ‘a little’?” 

Yuki hit his shoulder. Then he shifted off him to kneel between his legs. Yuki did take his time. He undid Touya’s belt like he was taking the bow off a present. He pulled off his slacks, folded them neatly, and set them aside. He was gentle, tentative, utterly focused. Touya felt honey-limbed and heavy. He liked being explored. Yuki's desire was a balm. It was the most natural thing in the world for Yuki to splay slender, pale fingers over his black briefs, cupping him. Oh it ached though. He was so hard, the head of his cock had pushed past the wide waistband and lay exposed, trapped against his hip. Yuki tugged the band down, freeing him, and Touya hissed at the sudden lack of pressure and the cool air on his skin. 

“You’re huge,” Yuki breathed out the words. 

Touya was watching Yuki’s face, drinking in every shift in expression, so he caught the flash of icy blue that flared in Yuki’s eyes. For a second that shocked delight had been in sharp, _glowing_ eyes, slit pupils flaring to ovals. Then they were a steady, warm amber again. But he hadn’t imagined it. Touya swallowed, nervous now. Was Yue interested? Alarmed? 

He supposed he was large. He’d never bothered to compare himself to other boys at urinals or in the locker room, the way some of the jocks in the soccer club did. He had figured he was larger than Yuki, but then he’d spent a lot of time thinking about what Yuki looked like naked. When Yuki splayed a delicate hand along his shaft, he did look kind of huge by comparison, like one of the more terrifying toys at the sex shop.

“It’s…I’m pretty worked up right now,” Touya said apologetically. 

“For me,” Yuki said, smug. OK. Not alarm then. 

Yuki trailed his fingers up the thickness of him in a loose fist. That light, cool touch was like a brand. Touya was so close already; it was enough to milk a stream of cum from him. Yuki gasped. Touya swore. 

He tried to find other words, to tell Yuki to give him a minute to calm down. Yuki didn’t give him the chance. He crouched over him and licked the spill clean before it could drip onto the futon. 

“Wait!” 

Yuki closed his mouth over Touya’s tip. His tongue swirled once around him. The ticklish, roughsmooth sweep of it, the sight of Yuki with his cheeks hollowing, his eyes closed, his mouth _on him_ – it hit him hard and sudden. He had no more chance of stemming this flood than he could have stopped the rush of power leaving him at the lightest touch of Yue’s lips. It was all he could do to keep his hips still as pleasure gripped him and wrung him out. 

Yuki was better prepared than Touya had been, swallowing around him – by all the gods, like that’s what he’d intended. He licked his lips, considering. He looked up at Touya from under thick, pale lashes, cheeks flushed, expression uncertain. 

Touya reached for him. Yuki relaxed, crawling up to lie beside him, tucking himself into the crook of his arm. He put that same cool, light hand over Touya’s heart. It felt as much a brand. 

“You sounded like that hurt,” Yuki said, uncertain again. 

It had a bit. In the best way possible. Touya shook his head. 

Satisfied, Yuki settled. He hooked a slender leg over Touya’s thighs. 

Touya trailed fingers through Yuki’s silky hair. He felt full and lazy and content. _Like I just ate a six course feast and then lost my virginity to the love of my life._ He chuckled to himself. Yuki murmured and burrowed against him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was getting a bit long, so I'm going to post it in two parts.


	4. Amazake (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yukito and Touya explore the ryokan's private outdoor baths and enjoy a sweet drink or two.

Touya was dead asleep and completely naked, and there was nothing to stop Yukito from looking. Touya was beautiful. Yukito could no more tire of watching him than he could tire of watching the stars cross the sky or snow fall in his garden. 

Yukito was naked too, but the heat from Touya’s skin and the flush of excitement from all they’d done kept him warm. He put his glasses back on to have a clearer view. Touya’s dark bangs tumbled over his eyes but didn’t hide them. His eyelashes were long and full, like feathers curved in flight. His lips were plump with kisses and parted. His chest was so broad, particularly from Yukito’s point of view just above it, cheek propped on a hand. It was smooth, nearly hairless. Which made it all the more surprising and intriguing how dark and thick the hair was that started at his navel and led down to nest around his sleeping cock and cover his thighs. It had been ticklish rough under Yukito’s hand. He wondered how it would feel against his cheek and lips. He wanted to do more than look; he wanted to touch. Even soft, Touya’s cock was wonderfully thick, the skin softer and darker than anywhere else on his body. It had been veined and glistening when he took it in both hands. Yukito could hardly believe he’d had his mouth there. The taste had been a surprise, strange but not unpleasant, musky and bitter as puerh tea. The _amount_ had been another surprise. He’d swallowed and swallowed, and it had still poured into his mouth in salty, hot spurts. That was in him now. That was part of the perfect fullness he felt, along with chocolate mousse and caramel and everything else. 

He hadn’t known he could feel this content. It was an odd thought because, if asked, he would have always said he was happy. But it had always come with an edge of unease, a sense that he could never be completely at rest or else vague shadows that followed behind would catch up with him. The questions he wouldn’t let himself ask had whispered to him like ghosts. Now they were answered. The important ones, at least. 

It was still a _little_ alarming when he lost time, but now he knew it was just Yue taking over. He had lost a few seconds in the middle of undressing Touya, when he’d gotten his first view of Touya’s beautiful, naked erection. Everything had gone dark, like power flickering off in a storm. Touya’s cock was thrilling and intimidating, yes, but not so much that he’d black out – as amusing a story as that would be. Yue must have come close to manifesting, then backed off. Why? Unease crept belatedly into Yukito’s contentment. What if Yue had panicked? 

Yukito hadn’t thought about how this affected Yue. He should have. Of course he should have. Yue had seemed exasperated with his slowness in realizing that he wanted Touya, and he had been thoughtful when the call to battle had interrupted their first date. But dating was one thing; sex might be another. Yukito hadn’t dared to believe he and Touya would end up using the room he’d booked at this ryokan just in case. He hadn’t let himself think too much about what might happen if they did. He didn’t even know much of what they _could_ do. Touya’s mouth around his cock had been a revelation. Afterwards, he’d wanted to try, to do the same for Touya. He’d leapt to it without thinking. What if he’d crossed a line? Yue was still in love with Clow. It was horrible to think of him as an unwilling participant in anything Yukito did with Touya. 

Yue’s voice cut through his fretting, clear as if Yue’s mouth were at his ear. _How can you think about me with your lover before you?_ There was no bitterness in the tone. If anything, he sounded amused. 

Asking too late was better than not asking. _Does it…bother you?_

_No._ Yue replied at once, gentler than Yukito had ever heard him. _Never hold back on my account._

“Un,” Yukito promised aloud, grateful and shaken with relief. This was okay. They were all right. He could have this. He rested his eyes on Touya’s peaceful face, heart aching. He reached out to trace the bow of Touya’s collarbone without thinking. Because he wanted to. Because he could. He followed it to the hard triangle of his sternum and over the soft slope of his muscular chest. He skirted the edge of a small, dark nipple, watching it tighten. 

Yue’s reply had sounded final, so his next comment came as a surprise, as did the warm appraisal in it. _He is no trial to look upon._

Yukito felt a surge of pleasure and shy pride at that. So, Yue approved. Yukito bit his lip but couldn’t keep from smiling. Relief bloomed into an illicit joy at having someone to share this with, to show Touya off to. 

_These,_ he thought to Yue, running his fingers over Touya’s forearm where it was flung over Touya’s stomach. _He has the arms of a Greek sculpture. He ought to wield a javelin or discus._ Yukito pet the soft furring of dark hair over bronzed olive skin. He traced the path of a vein. _And his_ hands. _They’re so strong, but he’s gentle with them._ He threaded his fingers through Touya’s limp ones, loving how Touya’s hand swamped his own. 

Touya murmured and shifted. His fingers stretched against Yukito’s and then closed around them with intent, holding Yukito’s hand still. “That tickles,” he grumbled, but he sounded pleased. 

“I woke you,” Yukito said, not really apologizing because he couldn’t feel sorry for having his hands on Touya. 

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Has it been long?” 

“Not long. We still have plenty of time to check out the baths.” 

“Mmm.” A slow smile, inhale, and sigh. Touya stretched and sat up. “What a good idea.” 

 

Seeing Touya in a yukata was a treat usually confined to summer festivals. Getting to enjoy it in the winter felt decadent. The low obi accentuated his narrow hips, and the indigo and white yukata gaped at the front, showing off a tantalizing amount of chest. He’d left his haori untied. Yukito kept stealing glances at him as they walked the labyrinthine halls of the old ryokan. The scene felt timeless. Touya looked like a samurai, with his resting scowl. 

They passed through a group of middle-aged women on their way back from the baths, earning smiles and bows as the boys stepped aside to make way for them in the narrow hall, and then a chorus of approving comments behind them as they went on their way: “ _ikemen_ ” and “ _kawaii_ ” and “It’s so nice to see young people at a place like this.” 

Yukito chuckled at Touya’s blush. “Ikemen,” he said under his breath. 

“Kawaii,” Touya retorted. 

In the changing area and the showers, where they weren’t alone, Yukito mostly kept his eyes to himself, not trusting his body to stay calm at the sight of Touya bathing. He snuck a peek when they sat side by side on little wooden stools at the row of shower heads. His view was blurry without his glasses, but clear enough to make out that Touya had his eyes closed, shampoo in his hair. His legs were so long, he looked ridiculous perched on the short stool. Adorable. 

They didn’t bother with the huge, shared indoor bath, heading through the steam-clouded glass door to the path outside. A gust of icy wind hit them as soon as they did, making Touya swear and Yukito gasp. They clutched their small towels at their waist, hunching and shuffling along the flagstone path as fast as they could in a gait unique to people barefoot on ice and snow. The private baths were around a bend in the river, hidden from view of the ryokan’s main building. A little path to each had a wooden sign that said “occupied” on one side and “free” on the other. Yukito danced in place, teeth chattering, as Touya stopped to turn a sign around to claim a bath. It must have been cute, because when Touya looked back at him, he burst out laughing. Yukito threw his towel at him. 

It was worth it, though, once they were shoulder deep in hot mineral water in a pool lined in natural boulders and gravel. The stones had soaked up the heat of the water, so the boulders at the edge were gloriously warm. They had a view of the river, separated from their bath by just a single line of boulders. Wooden privacy walls hid them from view of neighboring baths. A cypress chute carried water from an outlet of the mountain’s natural hotsprings, pouring it into one end of the pool. The water was hottest near the chute, so they sat there. Touya even moved under the chute itself, letting the nearly scalding stream pour over his neck and shoulders, groaning in a way that went right to Yukito’s groin. 

“Yuki, this feels so good. You should try…” Touya trailed off at whatever expression he saw on Yukito’s face. He drifted toward him like a man in a trance. His hands settled on Yukito’s hips under the water, and he pulled him close. Yukito lifted dripping arms over Touya’s shoulders. They kissed, each reaching for the other, opening to each other, pushing into each other. Touya’s hands pet up and down his sides and over his ass. Yukito arched, pressing chest to chest, his erection pressed between their stomachs. The minerals in the water made them soft and slick as mermen, skin sliding effortless against skin. In moments Touya was hard between them, nestled alongside Yukito and so much larger. 

Yukito mewled into Touya’s mouth, wrapping both legs over his hips, wanting to be closer, to touch as much of him as possible. He rocked his hips without meaning to, and Touya answered with thrusts of his own, hands gripping harder. Touya groaned into the kiss just like he had under the hot water. 

“So good,” he said against Yukito’s lips. 

Yukito made encouraging noises. He’d wanted this. He’d imagined them grinding on each other like this in matched desperation. The slickness of the water made it better than any bedroom fantasy he’d had. It was as if everything had turned into the welcoming heat and wetness of a kiss. They slid against each other. Steam rose off their skin in white dragon shapes, curling lazy into the air. 

Touya’s fingers stroked between his ass cheeks, low and deep, petting him from behind his balls up to his lower back, then down again. Every time they brushed his hole, Yukito gasped and shuddered. The feel of hot water inside him every time he clenched and relaxed was like another touch, sweet and invasive. 

“Is this alright?” Touya asked. His breath was coming ragged. 

“It feels good.” 

Touya brushed fingers over him again, lingering there, swirling over his rim. He seemed to like what he was doing every bit as much as Yukito did. There was an intensity to him, even though he was doing everything slowly, tentatively. They broke off kissing to pant, lips by each other’s ears. Touya thrust more roughly, his cock dragging along Yukito’s stomach from navel to ribs, rubbing along Yukito’s own length. Yukito clawed at Touya’s back, but his hand’s couldn’t find purchase. 

“I’m close,” he warned. They shouldn’t do this in the water. 

“Yeah?” Touya said, encouraging. He moved one hand between them, wrapping it tight around them both. It was as hot and tight as his mouth had been, but now Yukito’s every thrust wrecked Touya. Touya threw back his head, eyes closed, his teeth bared at the feeling. It was devastating, knowing Touya felt as much as he did, that they could do this to each other. 

Yukito struggled to remember what he’d been about to say. He barely got the words out in time. “Not…not in the water.” It was rude to get dirt or soap or even your clean towel in the hotspring water. Coming in it had to be sacrilege. 

Touya looked so lost to sensation, Yukito wasn’t sure if he would stop. But he did, gentle as a tiger on a leash. “Right.” He focused sharp eyes on the edge of the pool. “Not in the water.” He spun Yukito around by his hips and hoisted him out of the water easily, setting him on his hands and knees on the flat top of a warm boulder with a view of the river. Yukito tried to turn over to be sitting, but Touya held him still by his hips, Yukito’s ass level with his face. 

“Touya?” Yukito squirmed. He wasn’t sure what Touya wanted. He felt vulnerable like this. He couldn’t see Touya’s face. But Touya seemed to know what he wanted. His hands were so firm and strong. Yukito realized he liked being held and manhandled like this. 

Touya rubbed his cheek over his hip. He kissed the dimples of Yukito’s lower back. “I want to kiss you here.” He announced it between kisses. 

“You are kissing me there,” Yukito said, amused. 

“No. _Here._ Like this.” Touya pet along his crease. Then he cupped both cheeks and spread them. Yukito was pretty sure it was Touya’s breath he felt warm over the prone skin and not just steam from the water. His dick twitched, balls drawing tighter. 

It was embarrassing. It was also incredibly hot. It was like before, Touya’s face between his legs, hovering intent. That had shocked him, but then it had felt amazing. He trusted Touya that this might be good too. “If you want to…” Yukito said, a bit tremulous. 

Touya spread him with a thumb, the pad brushing over his puckered rim, pulling it. Yukito folded his arms and hid his face in them. He couldn’t help but think of Yue’s one shared memory of Clow, the feeling of being stretched and filled from inside. Was that something Touya would want to do? 

Then Touya’s tongue was on him, flicking against him, laving over and around his hole. Touya licked up and down him. He _moaned._

“Oh… Oh, Touya. That feels a lot.” Yukito’s thighs trembled. He half tried to crawl away, lifting himself up on his knees. That just gave Touya better access. He grazed his teeth across Yukito’s ass cheeks. He nuzzled down and sucked his balls into his mouth. Yukito cried out. It echoed around the stones. He bit his forearm, muffling any more cries. Touya steadied him with hands under his hips and licked him in earnest, tongue pressing, pushing past that ring of muscle and slipping out, over and over. Yukito lifted his hips higher, leaning back, pushing into the feeling. 

“So beautiful,” Touya murmured over him each time he pulled back to catch his breath. “You like my tongue in you, don’t you? You’re so ready for me. Look at you. Dripping all over.” 

He would believe that he was dripping. He was melting. As soon as Touya reached under him and stroked, that was it. He spasmed and sobbed. His knees slipped, but it didn’t matter. Touya had him. He held him up with one arm, working him till he was empty and trembling. Then he lifted him up off the rock and back into the water. 

Touya wrapped both arms around his waist, kissing his hair. “You’re perfect.” He turned, taking Yukito with him, and settled into the curve of a boulder carved like a seat in the water. It held them at the perfect height, water lapping at their chests. Yukito relaxed, floating in sweet warmth. He pillowed his head on Touya’s shoulder. Touya’s chest was his backrest, and his intriguingly hairy thighs made his seat. 

“You liked that,” Yukito said in fond accusation. The evidence was there between his thighs where he straddled Touya’s erection. It was so long, it curled up toward his stomach as if it were his own. It felt good to have it there, pressing against his balls and taint where they still twinged with aftershocks of pleasure. He reached down between his legs and gripped it, running his fist up it. Touya shuddered. His arms tightened. 

“Yeah,” Touya said rough in his ear, maybe a reply, maybe just encouragement. 

It was such a fistful. Different than jacking himself off. Yukito couldn’t touch his thumb to his forefinger. He could feel Touya’s pulse against his palm, feel veins standing out. The slick of the water and velvety looseness of the skin just under the head let his hand move freely. Faster. Touya tensed and arched against his back, lifting his hips. Yukito tightened his thighs around him. The feel of Touya fucking against his ass, between his thighs, into his hand…it was amazing. He’d never had this much power over Touya before. Or maybe he always had, but he’d never _felt_ it before. 

“Yuki, I’m gonna–”

“Not in the water!” Yuki laughed the command. Could Touya hold back, or would the tiger slip his leash? Touya groaned like a man dying. He liked being told no? Yuki tightened his fist and worked him in long, slow strokes, as lazy as if he were daydreaming.

_Touch your chest like you do when you’re alone in bed. Just see what he does._

Yukito had forgotten Yue’s watching presence. The reminder of all Yue had just witnessed, not to mention he fact that he knew how Yukito pleasured himself at home, would have made Yukito blush pink from head to toe if he weren’t already so flushed from the water. At his embarrassment, he felt Yue retreat. They had probably just embarrassed each other.

 _No wait!_ Yue was wise in these things. He’d been _Clow Reed’s_ lover. His advice was sure to be good. And the brittle cold had gone from his voice. He’d sounded warm. Intrigued. _It’s fine,_ he thought. _I don’t mind._

Tentatively following Yue’s advice, he lifted his free hand to his chest and traced a light circle around his nipple, like he did sometimes at home. He felt when Touya noticed. Touya tensed and inhaled sharply. His cock jumped in Yukito’s hand. Yue had been right. Yukito arched into his own touch. He pinched himself hard. “Mmmnn.”

“Yuki!” There was panic and joy in Touya’s voice. He shuddered and groaned again. “I can’t. I can’t if you do that.” 

“If I let you up out of the water so you can finish, what do I get?” 

“Yuki, please.” 

“I want to taste you again.” 

Touya lifted Yuki by his hips, set him aside, and stood in a rush of water. He crawled out onto the edge. He knelt facing the water. 

“You’re too tall.” Touya towered over him, even kneeling. “Sit down on the edge.”

Touya hurried to do so, clumsy with desire. Yukito scooted up to the edge, between Touya’s legs where they dangled in the water. Water glistened in dark hair. Yukito took him in both hands to angle him down to his mouth. The first lick just tasted like hotspring water. Then he swiped his tongue over Touya’s slit, rich musk spreading over his tongue. “I like this,” he said, rubbing his cheek over him. “I like how you taste.”

Heat spattered his cheek. Oh. Oh! This was happening. He wrapped his lips around him, catching the third spurt, and the fourth. Touya made tiny abortive thrusts into his mouth, pushing against the back of it. Yukito tried to take more of him, but he was just so large. He gagged and coughed.

 _Don’t panic. Relax. Like this._ Yue's voice was confident, soothing. Sensations rolled over Yukito, a reverse echo of what he was doing. He felt them first, then mirrored them. Swallowing. Relaxing his throat. It was OK. He could breathe through his nose. He could take him. He could swallow him further than he would have thought possible, wrapping him deep in the muscles of his throat.

Touya had started to relax, as though he was finishing, but as soon as Yukito did that, he wracked fresh spasms and desperate cries from him. He whimpered as the last trickle of salt slid down Yukito’s raw throat, and again when he slipped from his lips. Touya sounded so pained. It had worried Yukito the last time. He was more confident this time that it meant this felt good.

Touya curled over him and pet his waterslick hair with a shaky hand. “Suki. Suki.” It was the word they’d been using to say the things they liked doing to each other. Now it was just, “I love you.” Touya repeated it like it was Yukito’s name. He cupped a handful of water and washed off Yukito’s cheek where he’d painted him. 

 

The walk back to the ryokan wasn’t so bad. Their skin held the heat of the hotspring. They walked steaming through the air like gods of cloud and fire. The kissbite of snow falling on Yukito’s skin felt good. Everything felt good. The rough terrycloth of his towel as he dried off back in the changing room. The smooth cloth of his yukata clinging to his damp skin. The firm support of the obi around his waist. He felt hyper aware of every touch. It was as if his nerves had forgotten how to feel anything but pleasure. 

He didn’t have to hold back from watching Touya now. He didn’t think he could get hard again for a while. Touya had sucked him again. He had bent him over the rounded boulder ledge of the bath and fucked between his thighs. They’d ended up getting come in the water after all, but Yukito couldn’t care. The water was already milky white. No one would know. 

As they wandered back to their room in spent, companionable quiet, they passed a gathering of people in the wide lobby. The traditional sunken hearth in the middle of the floor had a fire lit in it. There was an open iron pot hung over the coals, and one of the ryokan staff was ladling something from it into mugs and handing them out. 

“What’s that?” Yukito said, perking. He was thirsty after their long soak – and everything else they’d done. He drifted toward the small crowd, and Touya followed. 

There was a sweet scent in the air around the hearth, a little fruity, a little sharp. “Amazake?” the woman at the hearth said to him, swirling a ladle through milky liquid and scooping it into a mug for him. 

“Thank you,” he said formally, taking the first mug for Touya and handing it to him. Then accepting a mug for himself. 

Sweet sake. It was an unfiltered fermentation of rice, barely alcoholic. It was a winter festival drink. At the Tomoeda Snow Festival, children would make snow houses, sturdy little igloos lined up along the walkway through Penguin Park. On the night of the festival, adults would walk by the candlelit snow houses, and the children inside would hand out paper cups of hot amazake poured from thermoses or ladled from hot pots. 

This felt a little like a festival, standing with so many happy relaxed people in matching yukata. The amazake was sweet and a little sour, rich on the tongue. The dregs were a thick, creamy offwhite. Touya was swirling his mug looking down into it with a smile playing around his lips. 

As happy with a rare snack and the cozy atmosphere as he was, it took Yukito a second to figure out the joke. 

“Touya!” he scolded under his breath. He looked down at his own mug. Now he couldn’t drink without blushing. 

“Delicious,” Touya said after his first sip. It was exactly what everyone around them was saying as they drank, but the way Touya said it…

Yukito elbowed him. Touya bowed his head as if chastened, breathing hard with the effort not to laugh. When Touya relaxed, like he’d gotten a hold of himself, Yukito took a prim sip. Swallowed. Gave a contented sigh. “So delicious.”

Touya swore softly, mouth twitching. He wiped a hand over his face.

They managed to make it back to their room before their laughter broke loose, loud enough to bother their neighbors, probably.

”We should…we should be quiet,” Yukito panted, breathless with tears in his eyes. “It’s late.”

They did their best to be quiet, in the hours that followed. Not everyone was so young as they were, or needed so little sleep.


	5. Ginger Beef

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Touya and Yukito are openly dating, Touya worries about their classmates' response and Yukito is anxious to earn Fujitaka's acceptance. Meanwhile, Yukito experiments with asking for what he wants in bed, much to Touya's delight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some service top Touya for ya. Also, please enjoy my bad chapter title pun.
> 
> This chapter got so long that I ended up splitting it into two. I'm still deciding if the next chapter works better as the last part of this series or the beginning of the Yue series.
> 
> I've given up on the canon timeline here - since technically in the anime these events (Touya giving up his powers, etc.) come just after New Year's, but in my version I have them happening over the course of the autumn and winter leading up to Christmas. I want to write Christmas Eve romance for these three without making them wait a year for it.

It was nearly Christmas, nearly Yukito’s birthday. This year, he found himself counting down the days with an anticipation he’d never felt before. It was a season he’d always liked in general, with the sparkling lights and decorations festooning shop windows and the excuse to eat cake and give presents to people he loved. But aside from being pleasant, it had never meant anything much. He’d never put any store in his birthday, which made even more sense now that he realized it was made up. Who had decided the date? Clow Reed? Yue? Some nameless magic? He had no idea how old he was. Should he count his age from the time he’d come into existence as Yukito? In that case, he was technically younger than Sakura. He wasn’t sure of any memories before he’d met Touya in middle school, so he would have to count from then. Or should he count Yue’s years as his own? In that case, he was _centuries_ old. He had the silver hair and the glasses for it. Maybe he was robbing the cradle, dating Touya. 

The thought made him chuckle and look over to where Touya sat beside him, frowning over his English textbook. Touya’s eyes slid sideways to meet his. They were in the middle of class, so they couldn’t talk. This saved Yukito having to explain what was funny. He just squeezed his eyes at Touya, glasses making a small sound as his nose crinkled. Touya smiled back at him, expression going devious. He was planning something - probably to do with Christmas Eve. That specific sly smile and heat in his eyes had been appearing more often as the day neared. 

Christmas Eve was a time for lovers. Yukito had heard that in other countries it was a family holiday like New Year’s. But in Japan it was a romantic holiday, moreso than Valentine’s Day. Everyone with a sweetheart would be going on a date. Now, for the first time, that included him. _Them._ He could ask Touya, “What are _we_ doing for Christmas Eve?” He didn’t, though, because he thought Touya wanted to surprise him. 

“Ugh, you two,” a classmate behind him muttered. Hiroshi, seated behind Touya, made a gagging face. Yukito realized he and Touya hadn’t broken eye contact, just looking at each other all this time, each in his own thoughts. 

Touya’s face darkened, and he turned slowly in his seat till he faced Hiroshi, who put on an innocent face and lifted both hands. 

“Touya,” Yukito whispered. 

“Tch.” Touya turned back to his book just before the teacher stopped writing on the blackboard and glanced over the room. 

This level of hazing wasn’t worth getting in trouble over. Unlike some of their classmates, Hiroshi wasn’t mean spirited. He might have pulled the same face at a friend for making eyes at a girlfriend. If anything, the willingness to acknowledge that they were grossly in love was a sign of acceptance, compared to the way some people stiffly ignored them. 

People knew about them, and people talked and teased. They were willing to do it within earshot, like now, but not to Touya’s face. He was the school’s best soccer player, the tallest boy in their class, and he scowled like a hawk, eyes going bright and fierce even as his mouth thinned to a hard line. 

Yukito was only bothered for Touya’s sake. The only opinions Yukito cared about were the Kinomotos’. It hurt him to hurt Sakura, and he wanted Fujitaka’s approval with a yearning he only half understood. Touya had told Sakura about them as soon as they’d gotten home from the ryokan. He said that Sakura had given him brittle, bright congratulations and then dashed to her room. Touya said Fujitaka already knew, with the mysterious knowledge of parents, and that he was alright with their relationship. Yukito hadn’t been over to the Kinomotos’ house yet to test those waters for himself, and he worried. He didn’t worry what his classmates thought. They seemed young, somehow. They were outside the flow of time and fate that had caught him and Touya and Sakura up in it. 

Touya cared. The not-quite-goodnatured jokes bothered him. It bothered him that no one on the team slapped his back after games anymore. It bothered him that they hurried out of the changing room when he came in. It bothered him when classmates whispered to underclassmen that they had better watch out for him because he liked boys. It even bothered him that all the girls in their class had taken up their cause, defending them like a pair of celebrities. Yukito thought the latter was sweet. It warmed him to hear anyone come to Touya’s fierce defense, and some of the heart-circled drawings he’d seen of them in hastily-shut notebooks were quite good. But Touya was shy, and the attention scraped him raw. 

Oddly, people didn’t tease Yukito as much. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was well liked, or if people didn’t know what to make of him, or if they were just afraid of what Touya might do. Touya had already put someone into a wall to make them apologize, and he’d been suspended from clubs for a week for it. 

Yukito didn’t mind Touya being overprotective. It was so like him. But he felt Touya’s tension, and it always made him want to put him at ease. So as they biked home from school, when Touya said in a carefully nonchalant voice, “Dad’s making dinner tonight. Want to come over?” Yukito stifled his initial rush of panic and instinct to refuse. 

“I’d love to,” he said, proud of how steady his voice was. On the one hand, he believed Touya that his father wasn’t upset. On the other, he felt totally unprepared to face Fujitaka in person. What if Fujitaka was disappointed after all and doing his best to hide it? Was this the right way for Yukito to present himself, head on before he could overthink it? He wasn’t sure. If he was going to just show up to dinner, he would rather have gone armed with cookies as a thank you gift. 

He and Touya had baked cookies for Fujitaka as a thank you for staying up late to help Touya cram for his history test. When Fujitaka found out that Yukito had helped make them, he had baked a batch of thank-you cookies for the cookies and sent them to Yukito, via Touya, along with a kind note. This had started a lowkey arms race of thank you notes and baked goods. Twice now Yukito had told himself he would deliver the next batch in person, but he ended up just giving them to Touya to give to his father. It was Fujitaka’s turn, so Yukito had thought he had time to gather his courage. 

He tried to mask his unease. Touya wasn’t fooled. “Sakura won’t be there,” Touya attempted to reassure him. “With exams coming up, she’s at the library after school, and then she’s going over to Tomoyo’s house to keep studying.” 

“We should study too,” Yukito said. “Maybe I should just go home.” 

“We can study in my room after dinner.” 

Yukito looked over at Touya, eyebrow raised. Touya made a face of complete innocence about as convincing as Hiroshi’s had been. 

 

***

 

“Tadaima,” Touya called out as they came into the foyer, announcing he was home. Yukito followed with a much quieter, “Ojamashimasu,” a polite, tentative ‘pardon the intrusion.’ 

Fujitaka peered out of the kitchen, looking as if he wasn’t sure what he’d heard. He brightened at the sight of both of them taking off their shoes. “Tsukishiro-san!” He hurried toward the entryway in a way that made Yukito want to step behind Touya’s tall back and hide. But Touya was already behind him, hands at the collar of his coat, helping slide it from his shoulders. 

“What a pleasure. It’s been a while,” Fujitaka said. “Let me take your coats.” He reached out, but his arms were covered to the elbow in flour. “Oh, right.” He wiped his hands awkwardly on his apron. 

“I’ve got them,” Touya said, slipping past his father with a sigh at his uncoolness. 

It was impossible to feel intimidated by a flustered Fujitaka in his apron, a stripe of flour on his nose where he’d pushed his glasses up. Not when he looked so hopeful and sheepish as he said, “Will you stay for dinner? As you can see, I was just in the middle of making it.” 

“Can I help?” 

“Of course.” 

He ended up elbow to elbow with Touya and Fujitaka in the small kitchen. Fujitaka was making ginger beef. He had bowls of sliced beef, egg wash, and spiced flour ready next to a pot of hot oil. Fujitaka floured each piece, and Touya presided over the pot, frying them. Yukito made a salad of fresh greens for a side. They worked easily together, moving around each other to get utensils or ingredients. It felt like being a part of a family – the borrowed happiness and warmth he always felt when he was here. Dare he claim it for his own? If he had been responsible for anything more complicated than washing and arranging lettuce and slicing cucumber, he might have botched it. His hands were as shaky as the fluttery feeling in his chest. It got worse whenever he looked over to see Fujitaka and Touya looking so domestic, sleeves rolled up, making the same considering face as they each tried the ginger sauce. 

“Needs more bite,” Touya said. 

“It does, doesn’t it,” Fujitaka said. “You like ginger don’t you, Tsukishiro-san?” 

“Oh! Uh, yes.” 

“A lot,” Touya said. 

Fujitaka laughed. “We’ll put a lot in, then.” 

As he watched Touya add more sugar to the thickening sauce, Yukito suspected he was making it sweeter than usual as well. They were tailoring it to him. But everyone seemed equally happy with the result when they sat down to eat. The batter was golden and crisp, drenched in gleaming amber sauce and flecked with sesame seeds. The thin, fat marbled slices of beef were tender, practically caramelized, and they melted on the tongue. The salad was just salad, but it made a fresh counterpoint to the rich beef. 

“You boys have exams coming up too, don’t you?” Fujitaka asked. 

“We do. After Christmas, just before the New Year’s break,” Yukito said. 

“Sakura is over at Daidouji’s studying,” Fujitaka said apologetically. “She will be sorry she missed you.” 

Yukito didn’t know how to respond, but Fujitaka went on, smoothing it over. “It’s a good thing my children have studious friends or they wouldn’t do half so well. I should thank you for lending Touya your notes.” 

“Oh no, he studies hard on his own. And he lends me his notes just as often. I wouldn’t have made it through this semester without his help.” It was only politeness for parents to downplay their children’s skills and achievements, but Yukito couldn’t help defending Touya anyway. 

“Well, thank you for taking such good care of him, in any case,” Fujitaka said warmly. 

Touya choked on a piece of beef and had to wash it down with a gulp of water. 

 

***

 

After dinner, Yukito made tea for everyone. As he did so, Fujitaka appeared at his elbow with a little box. “I was going to send these over with Touya, but now I can give them to you in person.” Behind his glasses, his eyes glittered with amusement, very like Touya’s when he was teasing. 

_He reminds me of Clow._

Yukito faltered in surprise at Yue’s comment. He bowed a little as he took the box to cover the slip. “Thank you very much, sir,” he said, defaulting to being too formal. He softened it with a smile. “Is it all right if I open it now?” 

“Of course.” 

Neatly wrapped in wax paper inside was an assortment of shortbread cookies, homemade by their thickness and the irregularity of the fork marks indenting the tops. Yukito gave an exclamation of feigned surprise and real delight, “Cookies!” 

Fujitaka laughed. The shared joke was a warm thread suspended between them. It felt like a beginning. Yukito let himself imagine more, a future of shared memories and kindnesses and sorrows, thread by thread, until the ties that bound him to this family were strong as silk rope. Even this gossamer strand made him feel more secure. 

“These look so good; I don’t want to wait to eat them. Let’s have them with the tea.” 

Touya came up behind him and peered over his shoulder. He reached an arm around him to steal a cookie from the box. 

After tea, they cleaned up the kitchen together. Touya washed dishes, Yukito dried them, and Fujitaka put them away. Everything had gone so well. All evening, Fujitaka had gone out of his way to include Yukito and show his approval. Touya looked mortified at how obvious his father was being, but Yukito was glad of it. There was no room for doubt. 

_He is kinder than Clow._ Yue mused. The thought was sharp edged. It was so rare for Yue to say anything about Clow; Yukito wasn’t sure how to respond. Perhaps just being there to hear it was enough. _As are his children. Sakura is a kind master. Your Touya is a kind lover._

His Touya. Had Yue sounded wistful as he carefully drew that line? 

As he hung up his apron, Fujitaka said, “I’m sure you boys have schoolwork to do. I’ll get out of your hair. I’ll be in my study till late, so don’t worry about saying goodnight.” He winked at Yukito. “Professors have to prep for exams too, you know.” 

Touya looked like he wanted to die on the spot. After his father had gone down the stairs to his library, he groaned. “What the hell was that?” 

“Considerate of him, don’t you think?” 

“No! Now no matter what we do, I’ll feel like he’s downstairs just…just… _knowing_ about it.” 

“No matter what we do? I thought we were studying.” Yukito tried to deadpan his delivery, but he couldn’t. Laughter was in his voice. 

Touya snatched a dishtowel off the sink and snapped it at him. Yukito jumped and yelped. With a grin, Touya snapped it again, catching him across the ass this time. 

“Ow, hey!” Yukito lifted a warning finger, but Touya only readied the towel for another attack, dark eyes flashing. Yukito turned and sprinted, letting Touya chase him up the stairs and into his room. Touya chased him once around the small space, making him jump as he flicked the towel at his legs. On the next round, Yukito turned and backed himself against the bed so that Touya had him cornered there. This worked. Touya tossed the towel aside and tackled him. 

Touya’s weight on him was wonderful. Yukito loved how his larger body boxed him in against the small bed. He had space to squirm, but he couldn’t escape without throwing Touya off him, which he had no interest in doing. He’d thought at this point that he’d be kissed – and it certainly seemed headed that way when Touya untucked his shirt, sliding a hand beneath it with a wicked look on his face – but Touya had other ideas. He dragged the backs of his nails with the lightest pressure over Yukito’s ribcage, in the ticklish spot right under his armpit. 

“Ah! What…no! Touya!” Yukito thrashed, gasping and laughing. Touya was unrelenting. He let Yukito batter his chest with his fists, curl up into a ball, turn over underneath him, all to no avail. Whenever Yukito moved, it just gave Touya access to somewhere else. He ended up half out of his shirt and trousers, glasses knocked onto the floor, on his stomach with his face buried in Touya’s pillow. They were both panting. Touya collapsed on top of him with a sigh, his head pillowed between Yukito’s shoulders. For the first time that day, Yukito felt Touya relax. He was a deadweight over Yukito’s legs and ass and lower back, radiating happiness like a cat in the sun. 

“You’re so ticklish.” 

Yukito huffed. The pillow smelled like Touya. The jersey pillowcase was soft as the grey undershirt that Yukito had stolen to have something with Touya’s scent to cuddle in his own bed. But the scent was so much stronger here, a warm, spiced musk all around him. 

“This is the first time I’ve been in your bed,” he said. They usually went to Yukito’s house when they wanted to be alone. And before they were dating, as often as he’d been in Touya’s room, he’d never dared sit on his bed. 

“S’not as nice as yours,” Touya mumbled. Yukito supposed a wide futon in the middle of the floor was less cramped for someone Touya’s height than a twin bed in the corner. Touya was nearly as tall as the bed was long. Yukito felt cozy like this, though, hedged in by drawers and bookshelves and Touya himself. 

“I like it. It smells like you.” 

He felt Touya go hard against him at the words, the energy between them changing from languid to electric. They had shed their anxieties somewhere between the kitchen and the bed, and that left space for sweeter tension. 

“Oh?” 

“Mm. Like temple incense drifting through the woods on a rainy day…cypress and cloves.” 

“You smell like old books,” Touya said, scooting up to kiss the nape of his neck and nuzzle into his hair. 

“I wonder if that’s a compliment.” 

“You know it is. I’ve seen you sniff books in the used bookshop.” Touya breathed deep. “Maybe this is what magic smells like.” 

“Maybe.” His flesh was the craft of Clow’s spells, he supposed. He was willpower and moonlight made solid. Thinking about it felt unsteady, as if moths fluttered in his chest. He pressed himself up against Touya’s comforting bulk. He wanted to be pinned here, held in this world by Touya’s love. 

He was real enough to feel this. The bed was half unmade from his thrashing, jersey sheets and old comforters bunched conveniently under his hips, soft against the bare skin of his stomach. It was a nice position to be in. He arched his back and squirmed, rubbing the swell of his ass against Touya’s groin. Touya responded with a happy growl, hips bearing down. 

“Like old books and burnt sugar,” Touya said. He licked the soft skin behind Yukito’s jaw, just under his ear. “And sex.” 

“Touya!” 

He couldn’t see Touya’s expression, but he just knew he was grinning. No matter how used to this Yukito thought he was, Touya still flustered him so easily. When Touya chuckled, it was a deep vibration between his shoulder blades. When Touya rolled his hips again and nipped his earlobe, Yukito couldn’t help the way he moaned. 

Perhaps because of Yue’s talk of Clow, that one memory kept surfacing. Lying like this, it was easy to imagine Touya inside him. Every roll of Touya’s hips would stretch him, would bring them closer and closer until Touya was buried deep as he could go. Would it be like the feeling of Touya’s tongue filling his mouth when they kissed? Would it be like when Touya kissed and licked his ass, pressing his tongue just inside? Yukito liked when he stretched his rim with the pads of his fingers or circled them around it. He liked the heft and friction against sensitive flesh when Touya rubbed off against him, cock sliding between his ass cheeks and up over his lower back or down between his thighs. He liked it enough that they could both get off on it. 

But he wanted more. The fluttering feeling in his chest had melted away to an ache low in his gut. He was fully hard against the blankets now. All he had to do was ask. 

He blew out a rough breath. 

“What is it?” Touya asked, lips on his neck. 

Yukito pushed up on his elbows, getting Touya to lift himself enough that Yukito could roll over to face him. But once they were nose to nose, he couldn’t look Touya in the eye. He’d never had to ask for anything, he realized. Touya wanted and did things Yukito wouldn’t have thought to ask for, leading him from delight to delight. How did Touya find the courage to voice his requests so easily? _Yuki, I want to kiss you here. Yuki, I want to try something._ He would state his intent in ways that made Yukito’s stomach tight with anticipation. He read Yukito so well that Yukito hardly had to say anything. But it wasn’t fair to expect Touya to always just know, Yukito thought. If he wanted something, he should say so. 

Touya pressed soft, questioning kisses to his chin and jaw and cheekbones. He ran his fingers through Yukito’s bangs, pushing them out of his eyes. He brushed noses with him. When Yukito didn’t answer, he pulled back. 

“Yuki?” 

“I want…” Yukito faltered. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

Touya kissed him flush on the mouth, startling a little “mmph” out of him. It was a deep, slow, hungry kiss. Yukito shivered, then relaxed into it. He always melted when Touya kissed him like this. 

And then, when Yukito was a breathless mess in his arms, Touya leaned even closer and whispered against his ear, “Tell me what you want.” 

It was easier this way, with Touya tucked too close to see his face. He only needed to whisper it back to him. Even so, his heart was pounding. He was sure Touya could feel how fast and how hard. “I want to feel you inside me.” 

Touya sucked in a breath and went still. If not for the way his cock jumped between them, Yukito would have thought he’d said something wrong. Now, all of a sudden, he wanted to see Touya’s face. Touya sat back slowly. His expression was full of wonder…and apprehension, like someone handed a fragile, priceless object without warning. “Yuki…” He blew out a breath. “Wow...” 

“Only if that’s something you want. You could think about it.” He wasn’t as good at this as Touya was. 

Touya huffed a disbelieving noise and wiped a hand over his face. “I’ve thought about it. Yuki…you have no idea how much I’ve thought about it.” 

“Then you like the idea?” 

“A lot. I just, I don’t want to hurt you.” He sounded so tender. His expression had gone so soft. It took the sting from his hesitance. 

“Is it likely to hurt?” There hadn’t been any pain in Yue’s memory. 

“It…might. We can take it slow, see how it goes.” 

That was good enough for Yukito. He sat up, his unbuttoned shirt hanging off one shoulder. He smoothed his hands over Touya’s chest. He could feel Touya’s heartbeat through the cloth, fast as his own. Touya was far too put together for this conversation with his uniform shirt still tucked in and his belt still fastened. Yukito started unbuttoning his shirt. His hands were shaking, and it took all his focus to undo each button, but Touya was patient, letting him do it. Then again, when Touya slid his hands under the wings of Yukito’s shirt and over his bare shoulders, petting it off him, his hands were shaking too. 

They kissed, and their patience broke like a dam – the swift, desperate meeting of lips between gasped breaths as they fumbled each other out of the rest of their clothes. He was naked in Touya’s bed. Touya was over him, all around him, pressing him into blankets that smelled of him. Yukito couldn’t imagine anywhere warmer or safer than this. Safety and warmth kindled the thrill and blazing heat he felt. They were at the core of it. He’d done it! Awkward as his request had been, his words had done this to Touya. He could feel him on the brink already – how his muscles jumped and his breath hitched. When their cocks brushed, they both gasped and arched, and Touya left a streak of wet heat along Yukito’s hip. 

“Fuck. I won’t last like this.” Touya lifted himself onto all fours, head dipping so his bangs brushed Yukito’s forehead. Yukito traced light patterns over his collarbones and chest. It was delicious to see him so undone. Tempting to reach down and finish him with a single stroke of his hand. But that would be counterproductive. Instead, he rolled onto his stomach. 

Touya pet a hand along his side. Then he was crouched over him, kissing a line from Yukito’s nape down the curve of his back. “You’re so beautiful.” 

Yukito murmured at the praise and rubbed his cheek on Touya’s pillow. As Touya’s kisses dipped lower, he arched and rubbed his leaking erection into the blankets. 

Touya’s hands were on his hips, so broad that his thumbs pressed into the indents just above his ass and his fingers splayed over his iliacs. He lifted Yukito easily, hauling him up onto his knees. He chuckled at the small happy sound Yukito made. “You like that? Me putting you where I want you?” 

“Tou-ya.” 

“Yeah, you like it.” Touya dragged him back flush against his hips with a slap. He thrust against him, shaft tucked between his cheeks, velvety skin dragging over his hole - heat and friction just where he wanted it. Touya hissed, and a few more drops of heat landed on Yukito’s lower back. Touya pulled back, panting. 

The loss of touch so soon was maddening. Yukito gave a soft cry of protest into the pillow. 

Touya’s hands were back, rough and reassuring. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” He palmed Yukito’s ass, spreading and massaging him. He traced a finger through the wet spots cooling on Yukito’s lower back, down his crease, and – oh, that was hot. Touya clearly thought so too, groaning as he rubbed tingling circles into him. He pushed, and his damp fingertip pressed in. It burned a little, more abrasive than Touya’s tongue and reaching deeper. The thought of it was wonderful, but the feeling was odd. Yukito tensed. 

“Wait. Give me a second.” Touya warned him before withdrawing. Yukito heard a drawer open beside the bed. When he looked over his shoulder, Touya had a bottle in his hand – sleek packaging like expensive hair gel. The cap clicked open like that. It couldn’t possibly be hair gel. 

“What is that?” 

“Better than spit.” Touya squeezed some into one hand and then set it on top of the drawers beside them. Yukito squinted at the bottle, only just able to read the large metallic purple letters without his glasses. It said _Play_ in katakana. Uninformative. 

“Wh–”

Touya pet warm fingers between his cheeks, stroking up and down. They left a slippery trail, his hand gliding easy as skates over ice. 

“Oh…that’s…” It was strange, but it was nice. Much nicer, suddenly, when Touya reached under him and stroked his fist over his length. “Ahh!” Touya’s hand was tight around him, but slick and hot as his mouth. 

“I use this on myself when I think about you.” 

“It’s f.f.for _this_?” It was hard to think. Harder to talk. He couldn’t feel anything but Touya’s hand sure and possessive on him. 

“It’s made for this, yeah.” 

Touya had oil – or gel, or whatever it was – made specifically for sex. And he kept it handy in his bedside drawer for when he thought about _him_. Touya lay right here in this bed doing this to himself. Oh the idea of it. His hand would gloss his dark skin and leave it shining. There would be wet sounds just like this. He’d grimace like he always did when he was close to coming, brows furrowed and teeth bared. 

Then Touya’s other hand was petting his ass again, and Yukito couldn’t hold onto the fantasy. There was only now, and now, and now. There was Touya’s blunt fingertip circling him, dipping in and out, stretching and playing with his rim. It didn’t burn. Now when he pressed, he slid right inside, all the way in past his knuckles and then out again. His finger stroked deeper than his tongue could. 

“Is that all right?” 

“It feels good.” Yukito’s voice was muffled into the pillow, but it must have been clear enough. Touya added a second finger. This was closer to the stretch and pressure Yukito had wanted. It burned at first, but that passed. He rocked back against Touya’s hand, earning harsh breaths and murmured encouragement from him. 

“You’re doing so good.” 

And it was good, but it wasn’t enough. As Touya went on, it started to burn again. The repetitive brush of his knuckles became more aggravating than pleasant. Something needed to change. Yukito huffed and shifted. It would feel like what he wanted once he was used to it. Touya had said it might hurt. 

_Tell him to curl his fingers._ Yue’s cool voice soothed over his frustration like satin over raw skin. 

If Yue had chimed in earlier, Yukito might have been embarrassed, just as he would have been embarrassed to give Touya instructions. But now he was so lost to his own desire, he would do anything. He lifted his head to look over his shoulder. 

Touya’s expression wavered between rapture and concentration. He sat with legs to one side, erection proud and ignored above his thigh. All his attention was bent on what he was doing. 

“Mmmm, Touya.” Yukito pitched his voice husky and content. He didn’t want to shake Touya’s confidence. “Try curling your fingers.” 

Touya paused and looked up at him, cutely unsure. Fingers deep in Yukito, he stroked downward, curling them toward himself. “Like this?” 

Maybe? The pressure was sweet. It felt near something, like Touya’s breath teasing over his skin before he took him in his mouth. “More.” 

Touya furrowed his brow and stroked more firmly. He brushed something, and Yukito saw sparks. 

_Better._

“Oh…there. There!” Yukito’s hips jerked, and Touya’s hands were there to meet him inside and out. He could hear Touya’s breath hitch. Touya caught on quickly, pressing that spot again and again. His other hand worked him harder, faster, rough with his own excitement. It was perfect. Yukito was falling. He couldn’t catch himself. The heat in his gut brimmed over and spilled. Pleasure raced through him like lightning with every stroke of Touya’s fingers. 

When he finally sank trembling into the covers, Touya slipped his fingers out and wiped them on blankets that Yukito supposed would have to be washed anyway. He lay beside him and gathered Yukito against his chest. Touya’s heart still raced, and his warm breath in Yukito’s ear was still ragged. 

Yue felt so close. His satisfaction twined around Yukito like another ghostly set of limbs. _He learns quickly._ His voice was a purr. 

“Desho,” Yukito agreed. 

“Mm?” Touya perked. 

He had…said that aloud. Maybe if he pretended he hadn’t, Touya would let it go. 

Touya seemed thoughtful as he stroked a hand up and down his back and kissed his hair, but he didn’t ask. 

Touya knew in the abstract that Yue was aware of what happened to Yukito – he could see out through the mask he wore – but they hadn’t talked about it in this context. Yukito didn’t mean to keep secrets. He just…felt protective of Yue. He could feel Yue bristling and curling into himself at the thought of Touya knowing. 

_Please stay._ He thought to him. It was nonsensical. Yue never actually went anywhere. But he didn’t know how else to say how much he liked the feeling of Yue close and content as wings around him. 

Yue felt like a wild creature of snow tempted by the warmth of a fire, hovering at the edge of Yukito’s senses. He came a little closer with every lazy brush of Touya’s hand up and down Yukito’s back. _I enjoy sharing this with you._ Yue sounded uncomfortable at the admission. _It is different. He is inexperienced. Clumsy and earnest._

There was an unspoken _compared to Clow_ there. 

Yukito didn’t think Touya was clumsy. But then he didn’t think Yue meant it as an insult, either. The opposite maybe. There was pain in the way Yue talked about Clow that went beyond missing him. 

Touya’s hands cupped his ass, distracting Yukito and Yue along with him. He was still half hard against Yukito’s stomach. “That went alright, don’t you think?” 

“Now you’re fishing for compliments. Well, you can have them.” He fussed Touya’s chest. He hadn’t given up on his initial intent. “I love your hands.” 

Again, his words were enough. Touya’s length stretched up between them as if begging for compliments as well. 

“I like how gentle they are. And how rough.” 

Touya brushed a gentle finger over his still-slick rim. It felt tender the way his lips were tender after making out. Yukito was plumping to half hard himself at the attention. 

“I like every part of you,” Touya rumbled and squeezed his ass, “but this especially.” 

Yukito grinned and hid his face against Touya’s neck. “I noticed.” 

“Did you still…want to try?” 

“Yes.” Maybe he said that a little too quickly. Oh well. Why be coy? He didn’t mind Touya knowing just how much he wanted him. Yukito reached down and grasped Touya’s poor ignored cock, squeezing appreciatively – the way Touya squeezed his ass. “It’s not just your hands I like.” 

Touya shuddered from head to toe. Yukito couldn’t resist giving him more, dragging his hand up along soft skin and rubbing his palm over his tip with a twist. When he looked up, Touya had thrown back his head and clenched his teeth. Yukito might have felt bad that Touya had been paying him so much attention without any in return except that Touya seemed to be reveling in it. He had been hard all this time. He was flushed dark and oversensitive, and not just his cock. When Yukito brushed his free hand over Touya’s nipple, Touya jerked like a fish caught on a line. Yukito ducked his head to kiss it. He sucked on the tight nub, laughing around it when Touya yelled. 

“Yuki, give me a break,” Touya said, his voice cracking with desire. 

Yukito gave him a break. He scooted up, reaching for the sleek bottle on the beside drawers. He turned it over in his hand, considering. It was clear, showing clear, viscous fluid inside. It was more than half empty… His brain derailed for a moment, caught again on the image of Touya using this. He must have spent an awful lot of time thinking about Yukito since they’d started dating. Maybe even before? 

Touya watched him inspecting the bottle. “Did you want to put it on me?” 

That was the next step, wasn’t it? 

“I want to watch you do it,” Yukito said, realizing that he did. He wanted a visual for this new fantasy. 

“Shit. OK.” Touya rolled onto his back, so that Yukito straddled his lap, and scooted up against the pillows till he was sitting comfortably. Yukito moved back to straddle his thighs, giving him enough space to work. He handed him the bottle. 

“Just so you know, it’s really fucking hot, you saying stuff like this,” Touya said. 

Hot enough that Touya was swearing. Yukito enjoyed the way his language got worse the more turned on he got. He loved that he could be brash and shy at the same time. Like now, how he couldn’t look Yukito in the face as he squeezed clear gel into his palm. Touya had to blush hard for it to show on his olive skin, and it was showing now - not just in his cheeks but all across his chest. He took deep breaths before touching himself, like he was getting ready to dive into water. 

He gripped himself at the base – hard – and then drew his fist up, leaving his skin glistening in its wake. He arched into it with a groan. His hand moved so easily over the slick skin. Tighter. Faster. Yukito bit his lip, looking down at the beautiful, thick curve of Touya’s shaft, the flared head. Would it slide into him as easily as his fingers had? He shifted, antsy with wanting. 

He glanced up, catching Touya’s eyes on him. Touya had the dreamy, determined expression he always got when they made love. 

_He likes being watched._

Yue was right. Touya shivered under Yukito’s gaze, arching as he raked his eyes over him as if that attention were a physical touch. When anyone else paid attention to Touya, he postured or withdrew. But when Yukito did, he flourished. He transformed into this relaxed, bold, sensual creature, this tiger in his bed. 

“Come here, you.” Touya reached out his free hand. 

Yukito reached out and twined fingers with his, palm to palm. He scooted up, and Touya shifted to accommodate him, until Yukito was kneeling over him. The head of Touya’s cock pressed wet against the taut skin behind his balls – like a kiss. Touya reached under him and slid the slicked fingers of that hand into him again. Two…no three. It felt so much. He made a choked, surprised noise and lifted up on his knees, pressing himself to Touya’s chest. 

“Too much?” 

“It’s…OK. I can get used to it.” He made himself breathe. Touya was curling his fingers inside him like he had before, a beckoning gesture, and that felt good. 

“That’s it,” Touya murmured in his ear as he relaxed around his hand. 

_Take him in, just like with your throat. Just so._

It was a heady combination, this whispered encouragement from both Touya and Yue. Their voices washed over him like the gentle waves of a warm surf. Yukito imagined going deeper, giving himself up to a rougher sea. 

Touya slid his fingers out. They left him stretched enough to feel empty at their loss. The air was cold against his skin. And then Touya was there, wide and firm and pressing against him. They both gulped for air, trying to calm themselves. At first the pressure was a relief. He wanted him there. He wanted this heat and this stretch. Oh he’d wanted this. But the more Touya pressed, the more the stretch became a burn. How could he be this wide? He wasn’t even properly inside him yet and it had begun to hurt. 

_Shhh. You’re alright. Relax. Don’t clench and lift up. Relax and bear down._ Yue did more than talk to him. He let him feel how it should be, taking the strangeness from the intrusion. He lent him his calm. It was as though Yukito, caught in the waves on the surface of the sea, suddenly felt the enormity of the waters beneath him. The tides there moved deep and slow, subject to the will of the moon. He relaxed. He let his weight carry him down. 

At first there was only pressure and burning, but then something gave. The flared tip of Touya’s cock had slipped past Yukito’s tight muscles and lodged itself deeper, where it didn’t hurt so much. Yukito was sliding down, impaling himself. 

Touya cried out, resting his forehead on Yukito’s shoulder. He trembled. “Yuki…Yuki…” His laced fingers were so tight around Yukito’s that it hurt, but it was a welcomed distraction. 

Yukito settled into Touya’s lap. The heat inside him was molten. It felt as if it reached all the way up to his ribs, pressing the breath out of him. He wanted to like it. This was what he’d wanted. He had Touya as close as he could hold him. Touya was inside him, and he was going to pieces with the pleasure of it. 

But it hurt. He kept waiting for it to stop hurting…and it didn’t. When Touya gave a small, involuntary buck, Yukito cried out, and not from pleasure. 

“Yuki?” Touya leaned back to see his face. He looked down between them. Yukito knew he’d gone soft. All he felt now was Yue’s calm keeping him from panicking. Touya cupped his soft cock tenderly in his messy free hand. He rubbed his palm gentle and slick over him. Yukito shook his head. It just felt oversensitive. 

“I can’t.” He sobbed in frustration with himself. His eyes stung. “I’m sorry! I can’t. It hurts…”

“Shit. Yuki, I’m going to pull out OK? I’m sorry. Shit, I’m sorry.” Touya unlaced their fingers so he could take him by the hips and lift him slowly. He murmured frantic apologies the entire time. Yukito sobbed again. It hurt as Touya pulled out. Not just the burn of it. He felt betrayed by his body. Something he wanted so much shouldn’t hurt like this. It was his fault Touya sounded so panicked. 

It was a misery and a relief when he was out completely. Yukito collapsed into Touya’s arms, burrowing against him. They were both shaking. 

“Hey…hey…are you alright? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Touya caught his chin and tilted his face up so he could see it. Yukito tried to hide. He had tears on his cheeks, more from frustration than from pain, and he didn’t want Touya to see them. But there was no escaping Touya’s firm grip or the love in his eyes. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Yukito said. “I asked you. I wanted it!” He shook his head free of Touya’s hand. “I don’t know why I can’t do this.” 

“It’s OK. It was our first try.” 

_He’s right,_ Yue said. His gentle voice drowned out Yukito’s harsh inner monologue. _I did not wish to alarm or discourage you, so I didn’t speak before. Better you were eager and relaxed. But perhaps I should have warned you._

_It didn’t hurt in your memory,_ Yukito thought.

_No, but Clow and I had been lovers for years then. Nor was Clow so…large._

Touya kissed the tear track over his cheekbone. “Shhh. As long as I didn’t really hurt you, I’m alright. Can I make sure you’re not bleeding?” 

Yukito sniffed and nodded. Touya gathered him up and then laid him down on his back as if he were made of spun glass. He lifted his thigh and looked at him. A cool finger stroked tingling flesh. It felt good. Yukito wished his body would make up its mind. 

“No blood,” Touya said, sounding relieved. 

“Can you…keep doing that? It’s nice.” 

“You must be tender.” Touya sounded concerned and also turned on. Yukito wasn’t the only one caught between emotions. 

“It’s not bad. I’m more frustrated than anything.” 

Touya pet up and down his leg, hooking Yukito’s calf over his shoulder. He brushed the back of his fingers up and down his ass and over his soft cock, soothing. He looked like he was working up to saying something. Finally he tilted his head, resting his cheek against Yukito’s calf. “You know I, um, have something.” He was blushing again. 

“Something?” Curiosity shouldered frustration aside. 

When Touya set his leg down and turned, leaning down toward the bedside drawers again, Yukito rolled onto all fours and crawled up behind him. He peered over Touya’s shoulder as he opened the drawer. 

It was full of manga. He had a glimpse of several series numbered in order, their spines upright, neat as a library shelf. That was interesting. When Touya took the time to read outside of school assignments, it was almost always something Yukito was also reading. Not manga. There was a white bundle on top of the volumes. Touya took this out and nudged the drawer shut with his foot before Yukito could make out any of the titles. He turned so that Yukito didn’t have to crane over his shoulder to see what he had. It was a towel – the souvenir towel from the onsen ryokan they’d gone to. Touya unrolled it to reveal…

“Oh!” Yukito tucked his hands against his chest in surprise. He had never imagined an object like the one resting on the towel in Touya’s lap, but it didn’t take much imagination to guess what it was for. It was a perfectly shaped phallus, balls included. It was realistic, with a slit at the tip, a ribbed foreskin just under the head, and veins down the shaft. The coloring wasn’t realistic at all, though. It had been made to be beautiful, marbled white and silver. He reached down gingerly to feel it. It was velvety and firm, softer than rubber but with a similar give. It was only a little larger than he was when he was hard. “This is yours? I mean, for you?” 

“Um…yeah.” Touya looked down and fussed with the towel, smoothing the cloth over his leg. Yukito had never seen him blush so dark. He pressed on through his embarrassment though, talking in a rush. “It hurt the first time I used it, and it’s a lot smaller than I am. You’re already tougher than I was the first time I used my fingers even. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. I’m just big. I wish I weren’t and it was easier. But…if you wanted, I could use this? It’s, um, it’s pretty good. I mean, I think it feels good anyway.” 

As usual, Touya was miles ahead of him. Yukito had never imagined Touya wanting a cock inside him. He had worried that the desire was something unique to Yue and himself, that the urge to do it was some quirk of Clow’s. He’d worried Touya might be turned off at his suggesting it. It was a relief to know that Touya wanted the same things. And it was so very like Touya to have already found a solution. Yukito hadn’t known this was even an option. This is what he got for never watching porn on the internet. 

He picked the phallus up and explored it with his fingers. It was heavier than he expected. It felt good in his hands. Touya swallowed audibly as he watched. 

“Is it something you’d like?” Yukito asked. “I mean, using it on me? You wouldn’t feel anything.” He thought of how rapturous Touya had sounded at first when he’d been lodged inside him. This wouldn’t be the same. 

“Oh I’ll feel something. I’ve been on the edge all night. Watching you take this would…yeah. That’s good for me.” He was tenting the onsen towel just talking about it. Yukito believed him. 

He considered the appeal. He imagined Touya putting his fingers in himself, stretching himself with his beautiful hands. He imagined him putting _this_ in himself. Wouldn’t that be something to see? As he pictured it, an odd feeling thrummed through him – like a wingbeat behind his heartbeat. Yukito was so often flustered; it took him a moment to realize the feeling wasn’t his own. That sharp interest and sudden alarm was _Yue_. Flustered. As soon as Yukito noticed, Yue withdrew. In a breath, all sense of him had vanished. 

So…even Yue wasn’t immune to Touya’s charm. Yukito found that oddly gratifying. 

He held the phallus out to Touya. “Please.” 

He hadn’t meant for that to be seductive, but Touya’s eyes widened, pupils huge, and he swayed a little. A half smile turned his face rogueish. He took the phallus with one hand and pushed Yukito’s shoulder with the other, tipping him back onto the covers. “Say that again.” 

Relief made the slow building desire sweeter. They were alright. Touya wasn’t upset. He wasn’t disappointed. Yukito was still a little disappointed, but not enough to quash the eagerness tingling up his spine at Touya’s command. He liked being on his back, able to see Touya’s face like this. He hooked his arms behind his knees and pulled them to his chest, baring himself. “Please.” 

“Gods. Yuki…” Touya’s breath was rough. He reached down and worked himself with a few swift strokes, bringing himself fully hard. From how he winced, he was feeling tender; he really had been on the edge all night. He looked at the phallus in his hand. “Shit, I need to wash this. It’s nicer when it’s warm anyway. Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” 

He stumbled off the bed and over to the door, opening it to peek cautiously out. Then he dashed into the hall, shutting it behind him. Yukito heard water running in the bathroom across the hall. 

Well, he could use the time to his advantage. He stayed prone on his back, reaching between his legs to feel himself. He was still so slippery from the gel. His rim felt stretched. It was easy to slide a finger inside himself. It didn’t feel nearly as good as Touya’s fingers had. He couldn’t get the angle to brush that place inside. 

When Touya came back into the room, he found Yukito fingers deep in himself trying. Yukito heard the door lock. Touya stalked slow over to the bed. It sank with his weight as he crawled over. “I can do better than that,” he said low. He didn’t wait for Yukito to slide his hand out, pushing a finger in beside his. 

“Ah!” 

“This is what you’re looking for isn’t it?” He stroked up into that place. He found it so easily now that he had done it once before. “You want a cock in you so badly.” 

Yukito slid his hands out, shuddering at the feeling of Touya’s hand there alongside his. The frantic, wanton desire was back. He did want it and badly. “Hurry.” 

“No. I’m not going to hurry. I’m going to take my time.” Touya replaced his finger with the warm, tapered tip of the phallus. It breached him easily. Touya swore, and Yukito gasped. The stretch of tingling muscles and sensitive skin was overwhelming – but not painful. Touya palmed below his knee and pressed his leg down into his chest. He knew Yukito liked his weight. He pinned him there and pushed that textured length into him so slowly. 

“Tou-ya!” 

It was so much _more_ than Touya’s fingers had been, but not too much. He could focus on how it moved in him. He didn’t have to escape into Yue’s calm. Touya slid it in to its base, pressing the unrealistically firm balls into his taint, and the pressure was wonderful. 

“I feel so full.” 

“Is that alright?” There was some worry in Touya’s voice. 

“Feels good.” 

Touya started fucking him with it, changing the angle and twisting it until it was brushing that place with every stroke. Lights danced behind his eyelids, and Yukito realized he’d shut his eyes. He forced them open. He wanted to see Touya’s face. His expression was pure, dark, fierce hunger. He was confident now and merciless. 

“Please…Touya, please…”

Yukito felt so close. It went on and on, riding wave after wave without crashing to shore. Sparks raced along his veins. He felt as though they would fly from his mouth every time he cried out. Finally Touya pressed deep, burying it to the hilt a last time, and he leaned down to take Yukito’s cock into his mouth. Yukito thrust wildly. He was too far gone to hold back. Touya swallowed, taking it all. 

Neither of them moved much once it was over. Touya let go of the phallus, and it slipped out on its own in the aftershocks of pleasure. Touya pillowed his head on Yukito’s stomach, and Yukito pet his hair. Yukito relaxed his legs, one of them sprawled at an angle over Touya’s back. 

“That was amazing,” Touya said. 

“Un,” Yukito agreed weakly. His thoughts were scattered as light dancing on waves. It took a while for him to calm enough for them to coalesce and take shape. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” 

Touya chuckled. “Any time.” 

“Not that.” He sighed. He was trying to be serious. “Or…that too. But I mean, thank you for sharing this part of yourself with me. I like knowing that you fantasize about me so much that you…do things. On your own.” 

“Mmm. What about you?” Touya lifted his head to look up at him. That dark hunger was still in his eyes. 

Yukito bit his lip. It ought to be impossible to be embarrassed with anyone he loved this much, but he still managed it. “Yes.” Not that he was as creative about it as Touya was. 

“Is that why you wanted my Tshirt?” 

“Touya!” Yukito grabbed a corner of the blanket and flipped it over his stomach, covering Touya’s head and shoulders. The blanket shook with laughter. 

Touya crawled up him slowly, somehow managing to make pushing his way out from under a blanket sexy. He lay full over him, pressing hips to his. He was soft between them, a bit sticky. He’d finished somewhere in the midst of all he’d been doing to Yukito. Yukito felt irrationally proud at the thought. All he had done was let Touya wait on him, serving his pleasure. He’d been too overwhelmed by sensation to do anything back. And Touya had liked it _that_ much. 

“Spend the night,” Touya said. 

“What?” 

“Stay here tonight. Let me make you breakfast.” 

Sleeping here in Touya’s bed sounded like paradise. No part of Yukito felt like getting dressed and walking home to go back to his own cold, dark house and empty futon. 

“What about your father?” 

“You’ve spent the night before.” 

“That was different. We weren’t dating. I slept on the floor.” 

“Mmm. And I hardly slept at all, with you so close and me not able to do anything about it,” Touya teased before answering properly. Then he sighed. “I’m sure he knows. I don’t think we need to pretend.” 

It did seem rather late to care about discretion after the noise they’d made. Yukito wondered how much sound carried down the stairs. 

“He was going out of his way to welcome me. I don’t want to abuse his good will,” he said anyway. 

“It’s probably because he…” Touya paused to gather and arrange his words. “When he and my mother got engaged, it was against her family’s will. Her father was furious. He didn’t even come to the wedding. They were happy, Mom and Dad. It was worth it to them. I don’t think she ever held that estrangement against him. But I know he regrets it. Our situation is different. He would never make me choose between him and you. And he likes you. I think he really likes you. He basically told me to stop being an idiot and go after you before it was too late.” 

Fujitaka had said that? Yukito was going to have to bake that man a lot more cookies. 

“But I think he still worries. You know, that history will repeat itself. He’s probably scared of losing me. Of losing us. I think that’s why he’s being so awkward around you. And that might not let up for a while, but if you can bear it…”

_Of losing us._ Touya spoke as if, were he ever forced to choose, he would choose Yukito. _I wanted to think I could support you, provide for you,_ he’d said at the ryokan. Touya was that serious about this. He gave their relationship the same weight he gave his mother and father’s. Yukito didn’t know what to say. He wanted this so badly. He wanted Touya for as long as he could have him, but it felt like tempting fate if he dared look beyond their next date or their next night together. 

“I get scared sometimes…”

“Of my father?” Touya sounded so doubtful, Yukito might have laughed if he weren’t overwhelmed. 

“Of how much I want to be a part of your family.” 

“Yuki…” Touya’s voice was thick. His brows furrowed, and his mouth worked around words that didn’t come. Emotion robbed him of eloquence, but the stark love in his face was enough. 

“I know,” Yukito said softly. “I just have a hard time letting myself believe it.” 

“Stay.” 

“You don’t give your father enough credit. You get this ferocity from somewhere. I’m sure he can be frightening.” 

“Say you’ll stay with me.” 

“I’ll stay.” 

Yukito didn’t think either of them were talking about his spending the night anymore. 

 

***

 

He felt a little guilty letting Touya do all the work of cleaning up, but when he’d admitted to feeling a little sore, Touya had insisted. Touya had washed himself and the “toy” (as he called it) off in the bathroom and had come back with a warm, wet towel for Yukito. He’d found Yukito’s glasses, which had been an impressive distance from the bed, and folded them neatly on the beside table. He’d brought him ibruprofen and water. He’d made up a futon on the floor – half for appearances and half in case the bed proved too small for them to share. The futon was definitely wide enough for both of them. He’d given Yukito one of his old Tshirts and a pair of boxers to sleep in. Now he was downstairs making hot chocolate for them. He said he would bring some to Fujitaka in his library and let him know that Yukito was staying so that it wasn’t a surprise in the morning. 

All this time, Yukito had been waging a battle with curiosity. Now that Touya had gone downstairs, he lost. He scooted closer to the bedside table, put on his glasses, and leaned down to open the drawer. _Azure Wind, Score!, Yokai Roommate, Angel Wars_ – Yukito didn’t recognize any of the manga titles, but that was unsurprising. _Score!_ had a soccer ball on the spine. It made sense Touya would read sports manga. Yukito pulled out volume one. 

The cover had two boys on it, one pinning the other against a goal, his hands tangled in the net. Yukito flipped through it, eyes getting wider as he went. A few pages featured a soccer game, but most of them were dedicated to one boy cornering the other in all sorts of places and making out with him. The art was beautiful…and explicit. Yukito was reassured; the things he wanted Touya to do to him couldn’t be that strange if someone had drawn manga about them. No wonder Touya had so many good ideas. Then again, if he was stealing inspiration from manga, why had he only ever cornered Yukito at school once? This character got tackled at school daily. Yukito could be jealous. 

He pulled out another title. The cover showed a bloodied knight cradled in the arms of a beautiful man with wings and hair longer than he was tall. Yukito felt that startled thrum behind his heartbeat again, like the single beat of huge wings. 

His only idea of Yue’s appearance came from that one shared memory. He knew he had long silver hair and wings. Was this character similar? Is that why Touya had bought the manga? 

_There is a passing resemblance,_ is what Yue said, but the fact that he’d surfaced to speak at all made Yukito think it was more than passing. 

He was nearly to the end of that volume when Touya came back in. Yukito startled guiltily. Touya paused in the doorway with two mugs in hand. He winced. 

“I thought you might find those.” 

“I didn’t know you liked manga.” 

Touya snorted. “Just Boy’s Love, I guess.” He came in and set the mugs down on the bedside table. The scent of hot chocolate followed him as he leaned over Yukito’s shoulder to see which book he had. 

“You’ve been holding out on me. An entire drawer full of books and you haven’t offered to lend me even one of them.” 

“What? You wanna borrow that?” 

Touya’s face was next to his. Yukito shut the book and turned to kiss his jaw. “Yes. I do.” 

“Alright, but don’t you dare hand it back to me at school.” The fact that Touya was grumbling and relaxed meant his conversation with his father had gone well. Yukito didn’t have to brace himself against the possibility of going home. Now he could fully enjoy the hot chocolate and the manga and the way Touya’s clothes were too big on him. He stayed up in bed reading, and Touya settled in beside him, an arm thrown over his lap. In this moment, it felt like home.


End file.
